Whiskey Time Travel
by Private Jenkins
Summary: When Unspeakable Harry Potter wakes up in 1976, he determines he's either A: In the past. Or B: In a mental hospital. At least the firewhiskey still tastes the same. Waiting tables at the Three Broomsticks, drunken death eater bar fights, annoying an attractive but pushy auror, and avoiding his mother's crush on him is just another day in the life of Harry Potter, 1976
1. Chapter 1

AN: Don't believe the hype. I'd rate this 3.5/5, decent time waster at most. This is pretty much a laid back, highly skilled, semi-alcoholic, former Spec Ops Harry Potter who finds himself trapped in the past for no particular reason. It's written more as adventure/comedy story with a dash of James Bond, Indiana Jones, and Dresden Files influences and shouldn't be taken too seriously. Features magical/physical combat, detective subplots, and inappropriate one-liners. Enjoy.

* * *

"Another," murmured the slumped form of one Harry James Potter, as he motioned for another shot of firewhiskey.

The stench of liquor and a hint of cinnamon encompassed the young man, as he swiped the shaggy mess that was his hair out of his eyes and knocked back the whiskey like a seasoned professional. The magical burn of the liquor slid down his throat before settling into a familiar warmth in the pit of his stomach.

"Another."

The aged bartender glanced contemplatively at the wizard, before reaching beneath the counter and grabbing a bottle of Odgen's finest.

"Knock yourself out," grunted the old man as he slid the entire bottle of whiskey over the table, where it smacked lightly into the wizards palm, "Fresh outta the brewery."

Harry nodded gratefully and gave a two finger salute in appreciation. Odgen's Old Firewhiskey. Brewed 1976. Harry took a long swig straight from the bottle, relishing in the taste. He'd been stuck in '76 for three months now. He had no idea how he got here. Or how he could get home. Or why he was here. Or what the hell he was going to do. This situation wasn't exactly covered under normal school curriculum at good ol' Hogwarts.

Of course, there was always the possibility he was drooling aimlessly in the mental ward at St. Mungo's and was just simply batshit crazy.

Ehh.

Harry downed another fifth of the bottle. It was a sad day when being crazy was the most likely option. The howling roar of wind and snow sounded loudly through the bar as a trio of wizards entered the warmth of the Hog's Head Pub. Despite his inebriated state, Harry felt the atmosphere of the bar suddenly change, with the majority of its patrons falling silent.

"Can I help you boys?" came the relaxed drawl of Aberforth Dumbledore as he cleaned a filthy looking mug.

A trio of hooded men stood threateningly in the middle of the bar. The ringleader moving towards the old bartender, while his partners stalked predatorily throughout the room.

"Actually," responded the cultured voice of the ringleader, his voice dripping in arrogance, while his face was hidden in the shadows of his cloak, "You can help..."

The trio pulled down their hoods, revealing the silver skull masks that marked them as Death Eaters. The shouts of fear and shuffles of moving furniture pierced the air as the bar's patrons scrambled frantically to get away.

Before the Death Eaters could finish drawing their wands however, Harry was already in motion. Sliding off his seat, Harry hooked his left arm through the bar stool and swung it violently up and over his head onto the burly Death Eater closest to him. The impact shattered the stool into a million pieces as the Death Eater crashed into the ground bonelessly.

"The hell?-"

Flicking his wrist, Harry released his wand from its holster, and quickly cast a silent summoning charm at minion number two, sending the smaller man suddenly hurtling towards him. The Death Eater ringleader fumbled with his wand as a devastating haymaker punch from Harry caused a sickening crunch as the other unfortunate Death Eater flew unconscious over the bar counter.

"Avada Kedavr-" started to screech the Death Eater before an explosion of pain slammed into his chest and sent him careening into a wooden table, breaking the ancient furniture in half.

A silent cutting curse sliced into the Death Eater's hand, sending the screaming Death Eaters wand and a few fingers to go flying away from the man.

"I s-surrender!" cried out the sobbing man, his severed hand cradled tightly to his belly as he slid back frantically from the man who disarmed him and his team in seconds. Harry's eyes narrowed in anger at the whimpering man, before grabbing the wizard by the scruff of his robe and lifting him harshly from the ground.

"I accept your surrender" growled Harry as he brought the Death Eater to his eye level, the man's mask long since lost in the violent exchange.

"T-thank yo-" started the Death Eater before Harry grasped the back of the coward's head and slammed him face first into the support pillar of the Hog's Head.

Harry grunted with pleasure at the obvious broken nose of the unconscious grunt, as the would be assailant slumped onto the ground. Harry could feel the awed and fearful expressions of the bar's patrons as he stepped over the motionless bodies of the Death Eaters and swiped his bottle of firewhiskey from the bar. A final swig drained the last of the liquor from the bottle as Harry let loose a sigh of satisfaction. A pained grunt came from the first Death Eater Harry had incapacitated with the stool as the burly man struggled to rise to his feet.

A burst of shattering glass exploded everywhere as Harry slammed the newly emptied bottle on the head of the Death Eater, sending the bloody Death Eater back into the earth.

"Nobody said you could get up."

Harry glanced up at Aberforth, the aged bartender slowly lowering his raised wand. A contemplating look in his eyes.

"Sorry about the mess," quipped the time traveler, shrugging.

Aberforth continued to stare at him with that calculating look, before shrugging also. "Consider your bill paid son."

Five minutes later, the distinct cracks of apparition sounded loudly as a group of people appeared outside the Hog's Head.

"Aurors, nobody move!" came an authoritative cry, as ministry Aurors came barreling through the doors, their brown trench coats flapping rapidly behind them.

Harry leaned against the bar tiredly as he watched the half dozen or so Aurors cordon off the area and proceed to stun and tie up the fallen Death Eaters.

"You the one responsible for these idiots?" asked the harsh voice of a red headed female Auror, cornering Harry at the bar.

Harry nodded his head silently.

"Nice work," complemented the Auror, flicking her pixie haircut out of her face as she motioned towards the Death Eaters, "You really did a number on them. I'm Auror Amelia Bones. I'll be asking you a couple of questions."

Harry raised an interested brow. Back in his time, Lady Amelia Bones had been the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and was the aunt of his classmate Susan Bones, before she was eventually murdered by Voldemort in the summer of '96. Seeing the petite woman as a twenty-something attractive witch was a bit disconcerting, to say the least.

"Name?" asked Amelia, a notebook and self-inking quill in hand.

"Harry."

"You got a last name?" asked the Auror exasperated.

"Just Harry."

"Alright then 'Just Harry'" said the Auror biting her bottom lip in frustration as she started to scribble furiously, "Current place of residence?"

"Scotland," responded Harry nonchalantly, the thought of his warm bed sounding better and better by the second.

The annoyed growl of the young Auror sounded as Amelia struggled to maintain her professional composure.

"Okaay, then can you at least tell me exactly what happened here?"

"Couple of Death Eaters decided to show up and play, I explained to them why that was a bad idea. Simple as that."

Amelia let loose an unladylike snort, "You're going to have to give me more than that 'Just Harry'. According to witnesses, you took down these three in a matter of seconds. "

Glancing up and down at the wizard and wrinkling her nose Amelia continued. "Apparently while intoxicated. I understand you may not want to talk to me, but if you're not going to cooperate, we're not going to get anywhere."

Harry sighed as he grasped the edge of the bar for support, "Look, Amy."

Ignoring the indignant Auror's protest, Harry continued, "It's not you it's me."

"Excuse me?"

"You got over a dozen witnesses here and I'm sure someone will be willing to give a pensieve memory of this scuffle or something. But I've been drinking since noon and these guys ruined a perfectly good buzz. So I'm going to go back to my room and pass the hell out. If your boss gives your pretty little arse any trouble just tell him it was out of your jurisdiction."

Harry flipped his hood back over his head and started to stagger away from the bar.

"Hey hold on, you can't just-"

Harry rolled his eyes as he stumbled back towards the Auror and rolled his left sleeve up, dispelling the semi-permanent glamour on his forearm.

"Check it."

The red headed Auror's eyes widened in shock before whipping out her wand to verify his claims.

Auror Bones rocked back on her heels and ran a hand through her hair as the ministry identification spell came back positive.

"Y-you're free to go I guess," exclaimed the Auror, staring at Harry in a mixture of awe and frustration, "I mean, you're free to go sir!

Harry grinned drunkenly as he rolled his sleeve back down.

"Like I said Amy," slurred Harry, as he reached over and tore the page with his information on it out of the Auror's notebook and stumbled out the door into the raging blizzard outside.

"It's out of your jurisdiction."

"Did you just let the suspect leave Bones? The hell are you doing?!" came the indignant voice of her partner, Rufus Scrimgeour.

Amelia didn't bother with her normal snappy response, but instead floated the official piece of parchment that was conjured when she checked "Harry's" identity to her partner.

"Is this real?" asked the subdued voice of Auror Scrimgeour, staring at the parchment in apparent disbelief.

Written across the parchment were three words overlayed on top a magical seal.

Unspeakable. Field Operative.

"Yes."

"Holy shit."

* * *

"Al. I got sumthin' for yah," the gruff voice of Albus Dumbledore's younger brother cut through the headmaster's silent office like a knife. His stony visage flickered green in the ancient fireplace of the headmaster.

"Aberforth, my dear brother," started Albus carefully.

"Bah!" exclaimed the floating head before suddenly disappearing from the fireplace.

Albus raised a curious brow as his fireplace roared and flashed green, depositing his estranged younger brother into his office. Taking a moment to scan his surroundings, Aberforth snorted lightly in contempt. "I see your office is stuffy as ever Albus."

"Well I was thinking of redecorating, why just the other day I was speaking with-"

"Cut the crap Albus, you know how much I hate the sound of your voice," interjected Aberforth, as he raised his wand to his brow and proceeded to pull out a silvery substance and flick it into Albus's pensieve, "Hog's Head was attacked."

Albus's cheerful persona dropped as he suddenly became serious. "I see. Death Eaters? What were the casualties? Why was I not informed?"

"T'is happened no more than ten minutes ago. As for the Death Eaters, they were handled. No casualties."

The wizened old headmaster sighed in relief, as his aged body visibly lost tension. "I am glad your dueling skills are just as proficient as they were during the Great War brother."

Aberforth scoffed loudly, "Wasn't me. One of my customers put 'em down. Young lad."

Albus raised a brow yet again in interest, "This young man, he is a skilled dueler?"

"Wouldn't know," grunted Aberforth, "The lad used maybe three spells, if that. A summoning charm, banishing charm, and cutting curse from what I could tell. He's a fighter that one. No doubt."

"Truly?"

"Aye. You said to be on a lookout for recruits for your little order. You might want keep an eye on this one," said the bartender waving his hand towards the pensieve, his memory of the event slowly swirling within, "Take a look. The fight is barely half a minute long."

The old headmaster nodded sagely as he moved to delve into the memory of the event. Diving into the pensieve's memory, Albus found himself stepping into the familiar rundown bar his brother had owned since the War ended thirty years ago. The old man smiled at the gruff image that was his younger brother, the hostility that was always present in their conversations missing as he went about serving his patrons.

Ever since Ariana...

Shaking his head, Dumbledore glanced around the bar, scanning its patrons. Mr. Abbott and his not so secret mistress, Miss Quinn, Hufflepuff class of '58. Over there was old Brackius Filch seemingly passed out in the corner. Continuing his once over, the headmaster saw nothing but the various familiar faces of former students and regulars.

Except one.

Sitting alone at the bar, a young man, no older than twenty five by his estimate, was tucked in the corner, obviously intoxicated.

"Another."

Pausing the memory with nary a thought, Dumbledore made his way behind the bar to get a better look at this mysterious young man, stepping through the ethereal form of his younger brother Aberforth as he did so.

Tired.

That was the first adjective that came to mind as he attempted to profile the young man's features in his head. There were obvious bags under the man's eyes, as if he hadn't slept well in weeks. The long jet black hair that hung to his chin was haggard and unkempt. The barest hint of stubble graced his jawline while a curiously shaped jagged scar rested on his forehead.

Continuing the memory, Albus watched as the man called for another shot and raised it ever so slightly, as if he was toasting someone who couldn't be there.

And the lad's eyes.

Piercing emerald, yet dulled with a thousand yard stare. Eye's that had seen far too much for someone of his supposed youth.

As Dumbledore watched the Death Eaters entrance into the bar and the young man's brutal dismantlement of them, he couldn't help but be reminded of the brave men and women who fought alongside him in the depths of Germany.

A soldier.

They say a soldier never forgets and as Albus watched the inebriated young man slam a bottle into the back of a Death Eater's head, he couldn't help but be reminded of his time during the Great War. Times had changed. The current conflict with the self styled Lord Voldemort was a different style of warfare. Murders in the dark. Disappearing friends and family. A magical war fueled by fear. Racism. Blood purity. A war of terrorism.

Gone were the days of old, where armies faced off on the field of battle. Transfigured beasts tearing each side to shreds, conjured weapons falling from the skies, and where witches and wizards came together to murder each other by the thousand.

Wars that created legends of heroes and villains wielding incredible skill and power.

Charlus Potter. Cygnus Black II. Elphias Doge. Alastor Moody. Edgar Bones.

War makes killers out of everyone.

And after watching the brutal efficiency the young man displayed, Albus confirmed his belief. This unknown was without a doubt a soldier. It wasn't difficult to see the obvious experience the young man wielded while fighting multiple opponents. Possibly a fighter in the Vietnam conflict that had just officially ended a year prior?

Albus stroked his beard as he exited the memory to the familiar confines of his office.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention Aberforth, your help is always appreciat-" Albus was cut off by the sudden roar and flash of green that signaled his brothers departure.

The old headmaster sighed and slumped tiredly into his seat. He had much to think about. People to talk to. The Aurors let the young man go after only a few questions. Why? Aberforth's memories were unclear. Perhaps a visit to Miss Bones was in order?

So much work to do.

After a lemondrop of course.

* * *

"Wake up you slacker!" echoed a loud feminine voice as the pounding on his door continued to sound, "I swear to god if you're slacking off because of some poor young witch you seduced I swear-"

Harry groaned tiredly as he wandlessly motioned with his hand at the door, opening it for his current disruptor of sleep.

"Hmpghh..."

"What was that? Was that a 'Thank you oh Madam Rosmerta for the job and a place to stay despite being an undeserving prick,' I hear?" came the sarcastic voice of Rosmerta, current owner of the Three Broomsticks.

"Mmhm... Go 'way Rosie," groaned Harry as he covered his head with a pillow and curled into the fetal position, "I'm tryin' to sleep..."

"Wrong answer."

Harry yelped in pain as he was dragged off his bed comforter and all on to the freezing cold wood below.

"Bloody hell woman! What's your problem?" moaned Harry as he struggled to untangle himself from his current position on the floor.

"My problem is my bartender/manservant comes shambling in at who knows what hour causing all sorts of ruckus, proceeds to sleep through his entire first shift, causing poor old me to work all by my lonesome!"

Harry sat on his bed facing away from the sun as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Manservant?"

"Consider it a new job title."

"Ugh. Fantastic. Sorry 'bout that Rosie," said Harry, as he summoned a clean shirt off his dresser and started to get dressed, "Yesterday was a bad day."

"That's Mistress Rosie to you Mister!" said Rosmerta haughtily, raising her nose in faux contempt, which was quickly becoming apparent to Harry was her way of forgiving him.

The Boy-Who-Lived pulled his shirt down over his head and gave her a disbelieving stare before deadpanning, "Forgive me my Mistress. My body is willing and able. Shall I ravage thy beautiful Mistress now or later?"

Rosmerta blushed lightly at the thought before turning on her heels briskly, "Perhaps later slave. But for now, we have an inn to run! Musketeer's away!"

Harry shook his head at the cackling form of his current boss, "We can't be the Musketeers until you hire a third person you bloody maniac!"

"Details!" came the faint cry of Madam Rosmerta.

After his initial arrival in the past, Rosmerta was the first person to befriend the haggard and confused person that was Harry James Potter. It wasn't long after Rosmerta deemed Harry interesting, that Harry found himself employed as Rosmerta's assistant bartender/waiter. And apparently manservant now also. It wasn't the action packed life of a Ministry Unspeakable but he didn't mind.

It was odd, being unknown.

Back in his time, the sheer popularity that was bestowed upon him as the Conqueror-Of-Voldemort made his initial plans of working as an Auror impossible. So when he joined the Unspeakables after a single year as an Auror it was a dream come true. Not only was he granted the anonymity that came with being an Unspeakable, but he also became the youngest person to ever become one of the famed Unspeakable Field Operatives.

The best of the best, UFO's were the deadliest witches and wizards the wizarding world had to offer.

Though Harry always wondered if the wizarding world knew what the muggle definition of UFOs was.

Probably not.

Aurors dreamed of the day when the mysterious special forces of the wizarding world would recruit them into their elite organization. Vampire wars, wild nundu's, inferi infested ruins, Harry had seen it all and then some in the eight years he had served as an Operative.

Harry cast a quick scourgify in his mouth as he shambled out of his room into the busy seating area that was the Three Broomsticks.

Somehow being a Unspeakable wasn't nearly as stressful as his current job.

"Hello, my name is Harry and I'll be your server today, what can I get you started with?"

* * *

Lily Evans blushed as the cute waiter stepped away to grab her and her friends drinks, much to her best friend Alice's amusement.

"He is cute isn't he Lily?" giggled Alice as she shamelessly watched the waiter walk away, her eyes glued to his bum.

"Shut up you," growled Lily as she punched her friend lightly, "He's at least in his twenties!"

"That good enough for me..." Alice sighed dramatically.

"He's probably ten years older than you!" exclaimed Lily, her face starting to match the color of her hair.

"Age is but a number is it not?" said the other girl dreamily.

"He could be married!"

"I'd make a wonderful mistress..."

"I forbid you from flirting with our waiter Alice, no matter how cute he is!"

"Ahem," coughed a masculine voice lightly, "Your drinks ladies."

Lily froze, mortified at the presence of the dashing young waiter as he laid out a pair of butterbeers for the two girls.

"And while I thank you for your concern Miss, I'm afraid your friend would fail the Marauder Age Rule..."

"Age rule?" asked Alice, while giggling at her friends horrified demeanor.

The waiter grinned roguishly, "Half your age plus seven. I'm afraid you're five years too young for me my lady."

"Harry! Stop flirting with schoolgirls and get back to work! Merlin forbid you adding fuel to a young girl's imagination!" cried out the smug voice of Rosmerta from behind the bar, "Tell them private dances are for witches seventeen and up, no exceptions!"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Way to project your sexual deviancy on me Rosie! I saw you eying up the Prewett twins earlier like pieces of meat you scoundrel you!"

The heads of the two seventh year twins popped up in interest as Rosmerta shook her fist in anger, "Lies! All of it lies!"

Harry chuckled as he turned back towards the two Hogwart's school girls, "Excuse me, I need to go calm down Rosie before she goes on a warpath. She's just jealous because she's not getting enough attention..."

"I heard that scumbag!"

"Cheers!" grinned Harry as he ran away, dodging a magically enchanted broom from hitting him in the head.

Lily squeaked at Harry's sudden departure before glaring daggers at her best friend, "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I've never been so embarrassed in my life!"

"Oh lighten up Lils, t'was all in good fun! I'm going to buy a pensieve just so I can see Miss Tomato Face all over again!"

"Shut up. I hate you."

Alice fell off her chair giggling.

Ignoring her traitor of a friend, Lily focused on the conversation of the nearby tables beside hers.

"-so then I ripped off my dress and asked him what he was waiting for-"

Nope. Moving on.

"-mustn't forget to purchase those golden cauldrons, the potion seems to react negatively to bronze-"

Boring.

"-rumor 'as it there was a Death Eater attack last night at the 'og's 'ead..."

Lily perked her head up in interest, motioning for Alice to shut up and stop laughing. Traitor.

"Blimey. You'd think the Headmaster would have canceled the students Hogsmeade visit if there was an attack!"

"See that's the thin'... Someone took 'em out before they could fire a single spell! Wiped the floor with 'em in a matter of seconds according to ol' Brackius," the middle aged wizard leaned towards his companion conspiratorially, "Drunk."

"Merlin!" exclaimed his portly companion.

"Nay," said the other wizard with a toothy grin, "Rumor 'as it... T'was him..."

Lily followed the crooked finger that pointed towards the person who apparently single handedly stopped a Death Eater raid.

"Oww! Damn it woman! I surrender! Bloody hell!" cried out the curled up form of 'Harry the cute waiter' as he was pummeled by a pair of enchanted brooms, a mop, and what looked like wooden bucket.

"Him? He looks harmless?"

"Aye. Tell that to the three Death Eaters in intensive care. An ol' flame of mine, Trudy, the barmy ol' bint, says one of them's in a ruddy coma. Physical trauma she says..."

"Blimey."

Lily turned away from the conversation to Alice, who was apparently listening just as intently.

"You think it's true?" hissed Lily quietly, stealing a glance at the mysterious waiter, who was currently fending off the attacking brooms with a wooden chair.

"I don't know... He could be a retired hit wizard... A bit young, but you never know?"

"Hmm..." hummed the young witch, as the raucous cheers of the crowd roared in approval as Harry snapped the last of the attacking brooms across his knee and raised the broken pieces above his head in triumph.

Lily locked eyes with Alice as they both rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"Definitely someone else."

Lily chuckled as the Prewett twins lifted the conquering waiter on their shoulders officially proclaiming him as the Bane of Household Cleaning Supplies.

But if Harry the Waiter didn't stop those Death Eaters then who did?

* * *

"Crucio."

The gasping screams of a squirming Death Eater echoed throughout the chamber for barely ten seconds before the torture curse was released.

"Really Lestrange? That was barely a punishment. Truly, your tolerance for pain is lacking."

"F-forgive me my lord."

"Yes, yes. You are forgiven," echoed the cultured voice of Lord Voldemort, as he sat upon his conjured throne within his meeting chambers, "Congratulations on your engagement to Miss Bellatrix Black by the way. When is the wedding?"

"N-next summer... The Blacks demanded a traditional wedding during the summer solstice."

"Ahh tradition. How lovely," whispered the Dark Lord as he twirled his wand lazily through his fingers, "So tell me Rodolphus. Why is it that I have three Death Eaters in intensive care at St. Mungo's and not a single article detailing an attack at Hogsmeade?"

"My lord, they were... Incapacitated."

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes before waving his wand, "Crucio."

This time the screams of pain did not stop after ten measly seconds.

"Good god Rodolphus get up. Your father would be rolling in his grave if he could see you," mocked Voldemort as the Lestrange struggled to his feet, "Really, if your father wasn't an old friend of mine, I would've killed you long ago."

"F-forgive m-me m-my l-lord..."

"Now listen Lestrange. Organizing a revolution requires no small amount of planning. Certain people need to be eliminated, specific groups subjugated, and particular places need to be razed to the ground. And as your glorious leader, it is my responsibility to lead us to victory, am I speaking slowly enough?"

Lestrange nodded as he kept his head bowed low.

"So when I assign a simple task to one of my Lieutenants, is it too much ask that it is accomplished?" asked the Dark Lord mockingly, "So I'll ask just one last time."

The atmosphere in the chamber suddenly became suffocating as the relatively light tone of the Dark Lord transitioned into rage, "What happened Lestrange?"

"M-my lord," gasped Rodolphus, "There was a w-wizard. H-highly skilled. Took out Rosier and his men in seconds. I-I have the pensieve memory of one of our supporters. Lord Abbot's m-mistress..."

The overwhelming weight of magical power vanished as quickly as it appeared, as the Dark Lord summoned the vial containing the memory into his hand.

"Why didn't you say so in the first place Rodolphus?" said Voldemort, the charismatic dark wizard chuckling softly, "It would have saved you a crucio or two."

"I-I live to serve my lord."

"Indeed my faithful servant. You are dismissed."

Voldemort watched as the Lestrange scrambled out of his chambers.

"Now," whispered the Dark Lord malevolently, gazing into the swirling memory within the vial, "Let us see who dares defy me..."

* * *

"Order up!" came the upbeat cry of Rosmerta as Harry deftly swept his way through the crowded Inn to the bar.

"Table seven Harry!"

"Aye, aye Cap'n!" quipped Harry as he summoned the tray of food to his arms, already making his way to the table.

It was already that time of year, Hogwarts students were on winter holiday, people were bundled up while shopping for Christmas presents, and the Three Broomsticks was as busy as ever. After the failed Death Eater attack over a week ago, Harry had noticed that security for the village had been subtly increased. The number of Aurors patrolling the village had definitely seen a jump, while a quick glance of the Three Broomsticks revealed at least a trio of plainclothes Aurors. Obviously working as undercover security.

"Alright that should be one house special and a coffee, enjoy your meal!" rattled off Harry absentmindedly as he laid out the food and drink on table seven.

"Why thank you my dear boy," Harry froze at the grandfatherly tone, "I've always found Rosie's cooking to be quite divine don't you agree?"

The former Unspeakable focused on the old man carefully sipping his coffee, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Harry flinched.

"Ahh," Harry paused, slamming his occlumency barriers in place, just in case, "I'm sure Rosie would be delighted Mr. Dumbledore."

The headmaster chuckled lightly, "Please. Mr. Dumbledore was my father. Call me Albus, I insist."

Harry outwardly smiled and nodded, while inwardly his mind was racing in panic. Albus Dumbledore wasn't lauded as the second coming of Merlin for no reason. He was without a doubt one of the most powerful, influential, and intelligent wizards to ever grace the wizarding world.

This was no chance encounter.

"Of course Albus, is there anything else I could get you or..."

The headmaster's eyes only twinkled harder, "Perhaps you could spare an old man a chat? It's so very rare that I get a chance to meet new people."

Harry gave a half hearted grin, "I would love to, but I really should be helping Rosie right now... Busy night and what not."

Albus gave off a grandfatherly smile as he motioned towards the bar, "It seems your problem has just been resolved."

Glancing up Harry let out a snort of amusement at the Prewett twins dressed up as Mexican waiters saluting Rosie dramatically.

Looking back at his old professor, the old man motioned to the seat across from him. Letting loose a sigh of defeat, Harry slid silently into the chair across from Albus. Dumbledore looked... Young. Not so much that he looked any different physically than he would in the nineties but... Lighter was probably a better adjective.

Not weighed down by his failures. Not yet.

"What can I help you with Albus?" asked Harry, taking the initiative in starting the conversation.

"Hhmmm... Consider this an old man's curiosity," started Dumbledore as he took another swig from his coffee mug, absentmindedly creating a privacy ward around the two, "Not too long ago, someone dear to me shared the most fascinating memory."

Harry nodded slowly.

"You see, after witnessing this memory, I found myself curious as to who this young man was that possessed such an interesting skillset," continued Dumbledore amiably, "Imagine my surprise when my inquiries came up empty. No name. No history. No trace."

Harry slowly gathered his magic, ready for anything. His attempts to create a false identity had been more expensive than he had expected and he had hoped to stay under the radar long enough until he could afford it.

It seemed his drunken brawl with the Death Eaters ruined that particular plan.

"So that brings me to my first question," Dumbledore leaned forward placing his hands together, "Why is a Ministry Unspeakable working at the Three Broomsticks as a waiter?"

Harry almost winced at the question. What the hell did he say while he was drunk? A jumbled memory of a red headed Auror and an identification charm flashed across his thoughts.

Oh shite.

How the hell did he forget blowing his cover like that? Eight years as an Unspeakable and nobody ever knew his identity, but one drunken encounter in the past and he spills his identity like a bloody rookie! Next time he was going out to the pub, he swore to Merlin he was going to imperio himself to not be an OpSec risk. Nicholas would have beat him senseless for his breach in security.

Harry glanced back up at Dumbledore, who was waiting patiently for an answer.

To tell the truth? Or not?

"I'm retired,"

Half truths would work. Technically, it wasn't even a lie.

Albus raised a curious brow, "Retired?"

Harry nodded confidently, "Retired."

"You wouldn't mind proving that would you? As Chief Warlock I have the authority to verify your claims. Although you would still fall under the protection of the Unspeakable act of 1769. I would be unable to enquire any further..."

Harry's mind raced in thought. This could work. It was impossible to fake the magical seal that identified him as an Unspeakable. And although he would be completely unknown in the current Department of Mysteries, any Unspeakable other than the Head would be unable to see his true identity and callsign.

And if the Chief Warlock could be swayed to help, he might be able to get an official identity through legitimate channels. Rolling up his sleeve, Harry released the semi-permanent glamour that his the magical tattoo burned into his forearm. The image of a cross with a serpent draped around the shaft as well as detached wings and a floating crown faded into existence.

The old man pulled out his wand and lazily cast the ministry identification charm, a small piece of parchment suddenly popping into the old man's hand. The headmasters eyebrows shot upwards in surprise.

"Praefectus Castrorum?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he wandlessly summoned the parchment into his hand. The information on it more detailed than he had expected.

Unspeakable. Field Operative.

Rank: Praefectus Castrorum

Callsign: Loki

Name: XXXXX XXXXX XXXXXX

"You shouldn't have been able to see that much," shot Harry semi-accusingly.

"Forgive an old man's deception. While my capacity as Chief Warlock does not grant me this knowledge, my position as Supreme Mugwump does," the headmaster said apologetically, "Although I am surprised at such a high rank achieved at such a young age. Praefectus Castrorum is no small accomplishment."

"It helps being good at what you do..." said Harry offhandedly as he rubbed his temples lightly, "So what happens now?"

"That depends on you my boy," said Dumbledore, "Tell me."

"What do you know about the Order of Phoenix?"

* * *

"Padfoot! Go long!" cried out James Potter as he winded back and launched the battered old quaffle across the Great Hall.

"The hell Potter!?-" cried out a Slytherin that James nearly hit with the quaffle.

"The handsome but talented Sirius Black dodges out of the way of a pack of Hufflepuffs," narrated the fifth year Gryffindor Sirius Black as he ran across the Great Hall floor, "He jumps on the Ravenclaw table and leaps for the quaffle!"

The Black heir leapt through the air, catching the quaffle with surprising grace, twisting in midair and landing successfully on the massive table.

"The pass is good!" cried out the squeaky voice of Peter Pettigrew, the portly student also narrating the action.

"Take the shot Sirius!" laughed James as the last of the Marauders, Remus Lupin conjured a trio of miniature quidditch goals in front of the Head table.

"For GRYFFINDOR!" roared Sirius as he leapt through the air the quaffle flying straight towards the middle hoop.

"He shoots, he scooorrreess-"

The audible smack of flesh on leather cut off Sirius's premature celebration, as a hand reached out and caught the quaffle mid flight.

"Huh?"

"It seems Gryffindor fails to score at the last second Mr. Black," chuckled the wizened old form of headmaster Dumbledore as his young black haired companion tossed the quaffle back at the Black family heir.

"Messrs. Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew. That will be twenty five points from Gryffindor."

The marauders grinned sheepishly in response.

The old headmaster's eyes twinkled mischievously as he continued, "Thirty points goes to Mr. Lupin for a conjuration well beyond his years. Now run along boys."

"Will do Headmaster!"

The marauders high-fived each other as they made their way back to the Gryffindor table, their antics somehow earning them five points.

"Way to go Moony! That conjuration totally got us out of trouble!" laughed James slapping his werewolf friend lightly on the back, "Too bad Sirius couldn't make the shot!"

"Hey! I resent that! There wasn't supposed to be a Keeper!" complained Black jokingly.

"That bloke came out of nowhere! Wonder what he's doing with Dumbledore?" said James, a contemplative look on his face.

"Lily! Did you see him? What's he doing here at Hogwarts?" came the excited giggle of Alice Wood, best friend of Lily Evans.

Perking up in interest, James grabbed Sirius and Remus by the back of their collars and dragged them towards Lily and Alice with Peter waddling behind.

"What's that I hear? You fine ladies know who Dumbledore's mysterious Keeper is?"

"Hello Lily, Alice," politely said Remus as he struggled to get out of James's grasp, while Sirius decided to go completely limp.

"Hello boys," smiled Alice before lightly punching Lily on her shoulder, "And that's just Lily's dream date, Harry!"

Lily blushed crimson before shoving Alice halfheartedly.

James gasped dramatically, "But Evans! I thought our love was forever?! Who is this scoundrel who dares steal the heart of my one true love!"

Lily rolled her eyes at Potter's antics, "Oh shut up Potter. He's at least twenty five, Alice is just being silly."

James shot up like a rocket, "Peter! Remind me to purchase an ageing potion next Hogsmeade visit! Lily likes older men!"

"Sir! Yes sir!"

"I hate you all."

"So what's the deal with Lily's dream guy? I swear I've seen him before," asked Sirius, sidling up next to Alice flirtatiously, a cocky grin across his face.

Alice cocked up a brow in amusement before continuing, "That's because he works at The Three Broomsticks with Madam Rosmerta. Lily's just waiting until she's seventeen so she can get a private dance from Harry."

"Ooohh scandalous," grinned Sirius.

Lily started to bang her head futilely on the table.

"Apparently there's been rumors Harry took down a couple of Death Eaters singlehandedly, but I'm not sure how true those rumors are."

"That guy? He looked more like a quidditch athlete than a dark wizard catcher?" quipped Sirius.

Remus took a seat and stroked his nonexistent beard in thought, "If he's meeting with the headmaster there might be some truth to those rumors. It's not like Dumbledore is seducing young waiters to his quarters right?"

Lily's eyes widened dramatically in horror.

Alice grinned, "Ooohh scandalous..."

* * *

"Sooooo... What did Dumbledore want from you Harry?" asked Rosmerta, leaning over the bar, her considerable cleavage hanging from her robes. Harry chuckled at Rosie's scandalous expression as he flicked a lone knut down her blouse, "Just a little recruitment drive."

Rosie's eyes widened before she whispered conspiratorially, "The Order?"

Harry grinned roguishly as he leaned in closer to his boss, "Nope."

"Damn it Harry!" groaned Rosmerta playfully swiping at the former Unspeakable's head.

"Forgive me my Mistress," smiled Harry, throwing back a shot of firewhiskey, "I turned him down. Joined the HDF instead..."

"The Hogsmeade Defense Force?" asked Rosmerta, taking a shot herself.

"Got it in one Rosie," quipped Harry as he leaned against the counter, "Though I thought it stood for Hogwarts Defence Force.."

Rosmerta leaned her delicate chin onto her fists, "Why'd Dumbledore recruit you?"

Harry cocked his head to the side curiously, "You haven't heard the rumors?"

"What? The one where you took out a group of Death Eaters single handedly? I thought that was just your fanclub making up stories!"

"Yeah well-wait. Fanclub?"

"If there was a most beautiful contest here in town, me and you would be king and queen darling..." Rosmerta said saucily, her cheeks rosy from the alcohol.

"Merin. I'm cursed."

Rosmerta laughed joyously, the brunette smiling widely, "You're just a regular heartbreaker aren't you Harry."

"Couldn't be farther from the truth Rosie," Harry smiled, raising his shot glass to his drinking partner.

"So what exactly does being in the HDF entail?"

Harry shrugged as he reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of Crown, "Not much. There's a training weekend once a month, similar to the muggle Territorial Army. If Hogsmeade or Hogwarts is ever attacked I'd be part of the defense."

"Oh? When's your first training weekend?"

"That reminds me Rosie," Harry grinned mischievously, "I won't be coming in this weekend."

"You son of a bitch."

* * *

"Hello, my name is Auror Amelia Bones, and I'll be in charge of your training," said the steely grey eyed Auror, her gaze moving across the rabble of witches and wizards spread out in front of her.

"The HDF is not designed to create an army, but is instead designed to give volunteer witches and wizards such as yourselves, the ability to better defend yourself, your families and homes.

The petite Auror rested her hands on her hips, glaring intently at the crowd.

Harry gave the Auror a cheeky grin, causing the redhead to double take.

"I-uh-my partner here Auror Scrimgeour will take over from here," said Amelia as she waved to her partner next to her.

"Indeed. I am Auror Rufus Scrimgeou-"

"You..." hissed the female Auror dragging Harry away from the crowd, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What? Not excited to see me Amy?"

"That's Auror Bones to you," said the Auror, crossing her arms across her chest, "And why is a..."

Amelia paused, glancing back and forth, "You know... Joining the HDF?"

Harry ran his hand through his disheveled hair and sighed "Look Amy. I'm retired. I shouldn't have even revealed to you my status when I did, but I was drunk and didn't have my head on straight. And seeing as how Dumbledore will have my hide if I go around obliviating everyone who knows, here I am."

Amelia cast a wary gaze at the former Unspeakable, "Dumbledore?"

"Who else?" quipped Harry, "Personally, I'd much rather be inside than out here in the bloody cold."

"There is something called a warming charm you know."

"Ahh yes," grinned Harry as he pulled out a silver flask from his coat, "But that's what the firewhiskey is for."

Amelia rolled her eyes, "I'm not sure if this training is going to be any help for someone of your... expertise... I've heard rumors of the training you guys go through."

"Worse."

"Excuse me?"

"Whatever you've heard? It's worse than that. You don't fail the Q-Course... You pass or you die."

Amelia shifted awkwardly at that morbid fact.

Harry shrugged, "But yes. This training is pretty pointless for me."

"What about me then?"

"Hmm? What about you?"

Amelia puffed up slightly, "Seeing as you are a member of the HDF and I am in charge of overseeing force readiness, what if I duel you?"

The former Unspeakable raised an amused brow. The petite Auror deflated slightly at the reaction before plowing on, "You need someone to keep you from going rusty and I could benefit from dueling someone with your supposed skills."

Harry shrugged before quipping flirtatiously, "You think you can handle this Amy? When I go hard, I don't stop until I'm on top."

Amelia rolled her eyes at the double entendre, "Don't come crying to me when I wipe the floor with your special forces ass."

Harry grinned.

"Feisty."

* * *

"So how do you want to do this?" asked Harry as he followed the cute red headed Auror.

The day had gone by relatively quickly, with Aurors Bones and Scrimgeour assessing and training the newest HDF recruits while Harry just kind of hung out in the background. His prodigal abilities far surpassing the basic stunning and shield spells everyone else was working on.

After everyone was dismissed for the night, Harry followed Amelia through the floo network to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's official practice arena.

"No holds barred, alternate Unforgivables okay with you?" asked Amelia, moving towards the middle of the arena.

"Sounds good to me," said Harry cracking his neck in anticipation.

These were the kind of rules Harry could get behind. Alternate Unforgivable's were simply different colored spells representing each Unforgivable.

Granted, the Unspeakable program made liberal use of the cruciatus and imperio spells and only used the killing curse alternative in their practice spars.

"Ready?"

Harry let Amelia settle into her dueling stance, watching silently as he stood across from the Auror, his hands resting in his pockets. The former Unspeakable chuckled at the indignant look Amy gave him at his relaxed stance.

"Ready when you are Amy..."

The red headed Aurors eyes narrowed in concentration, "On three."

"One. Two. Three."

A trio of silent stunners exploded out of Amelia's wand scattered at eye level, chest height, and at knee level. The spells were fired in such away that a target couldn't dodge left, right, or back. A quick finishing technique that was infamous for succeeding when a perpetrator couldn't get a shield up fast enough.

Despite being impressed at Amelia's casting speed, Harry grinned at the predictable move. Diving forward, Harry twisted past the stunning spells before rolling onto the sandy ground in front of his opponent. Despite the incredibly unorthodox tactic, the Auror stood her ground and started throwing a series of bludgeoning and stunning spells at the Unspeakable. Harry charged forward at the Auror, his wand still strapped to his forearm, and slid under the onslaught of spells sliding until he was almost in arms distance.

The female Auror, unnerved by the rapid assault cast a quick protego, a shimmering shield snapping into existence, as she took a reflexive step back.

Grasping the sand that made up the dueling arena, Harry flung a handful of the blinding material at the Aurors face, her arm instinctively covering her eyes, as he snapped to his feet and moved within arms reach of petite Auror. Hooking a foot behind the girl, Harry slammed his left palm into her chest, knocking the Auror off balance and onto her back. Without missing a beat, Harry's wand shot out of his right arms holster and rested lightly on the woman's delicate throat.

Harry grinned at the fallen Auror, "I believe that's a win for me Amy..."

Amelia gasped as she struggled to breathe, the wind knocked out of her, "Y-you j-just wanted t-to touch m-my chest... J-jackass..."

Harry chuckled as he held out an arm for the Auror, the petite woman grasping on to his forearm as he pulled her up.

"All in all, not too shabby Amy," quipped Harry lightheartedly.

"L-liar. You kicked m-my ass in l-less than f-fifteen seconds," groaned Amelia as she bent over gasping for breath.

"Head up Miss Bones," chided Harry, forcing the Auror to rest her hands on her head, "You could've done much worse Amy, a few technical issues to work on, and you'll be lasting whole minutes against me!"

"Jackass."

"Seriously though, you've got some skills Amy. Your casting speed was phenomenal, while the nonverbal spells doesn't give your opponent an idea of what you're casting," complimented Harry as Amelia listened intently, "However; your battlefield awareness could definitely use some work."

"How so?"

"I would've used those bludgeoning charms on the earth in front of you, it would've obscured my view of you and allowed you to get some distance on me. Using your environment to your advantage can be the difference between life and death.

Amelia cast a contemplative eye at the former Unspeakable, before nodding.

"Only other thing I can think of is your footwork. When people start throwing AK's around, the last thing you want to be is a stationary target."

"AK's?"

Harry cocked his head to the side in confusion before shrugging, "Forgot you people have a different set of slang. The killing curse."

"AK's..." said Amelia, rolling the term on her tongue, "I like it..."

Harry shrugged again before motioning to the Auror, "You up for round two?"

Amelia slammed her fist into her palm, blowing her asymmetrical pixie haircut out of her eyes.

"Bring it on punk."

* * *

Harry couldn't stop grinning as he walked through the hall of the ministry, his sparring session with Miss Bones going far better than he had initially expected. The feisty redhead was a quick study, quickly adapting the advice Harry gave her into her fighting style. The Auror being skilled enough to give him a slight challenge when he was facing her.

The former Unspeakable chuckled, the look of frustration on the beautiful Auror's face when he told her their longest bout was fifty nine seconds was priceless, especially considering he lied about the time. Harry could definitely see how Amelia would go on to become the Head of the Department of-Harry froze, before dropping to the floor, an overpowered stunning spell flying overhead.

The former Unspeakable rolled forward as a group of shimmering wizards faded into appearance around him. Releasing his wand from his holster Harry twisted past a black curse as he scrunched his eyes shut and cast a nonverbal Lumos Maxima, the flash temporarily blinding his assailants. Still in motion, Harry grasped the closest assailant and wrenched the wizard's arm violently behind his back.

The sound of breaking bones and a single gasp of pain was all the unfortunate wizard had time for before Harry planted a dragon skin boot into his back and sent him tumbling into a pair of his blinded comrades. Harry quickly sent a pair of banishing charms at a pair of conjured wolves, the quick work of an attacker who was able to spell his vision back.

"Bastard," growled a burly attacker, his cloaked face hidden as he threw a savage right cross that connected with Harry's chest, sending him crashing into the corridor wall.

Grunting in pain, Harry ducked under another brutal looking swing and swiped a hidden knife from his boot, slamming it into the inside of the man's thigh.

A roar of pain broke the silence as Harry cast a wandless banishing charm, sending the burly attacker flying across the room.

"Imperio!" cried a female witch triumphantly, as the silvery curse connected with the former Unspeakable.

Harry froze and raised his hands in the air seemingly caught under the Unforgivable as he effortlessly dismissed the mind control.

"Nice shot kid," complemented one of the cloaked assailants, "This guys deadlier than he looks. I want him tied up and stunned, I don't want to take any chances with this one."

"You got it boss," replied one of the attackers, raising his wand to stun the former Unspeakable.

Harry took that as his cue to disagree.

Lashing out, Harry connected a quick jab to the face of the wizard about to stun him, and hooked an arm around the female witch that had cursed him, dragging her back from his attackers.

"Oh shit-"

"Not another step," ordered Harry coolly, his wand pressed against the witch's head, "Or the Rookie gets it..."

The supposed leader raised both his hands up carefully, although his companions still kept their wands trained on him, "Alright, let's not do anything hasty here..."

Harry snorted, "Coming from the Unspeakable squad that tried to ambush me? You could've at least left the greenhorn at home..."

The hooded leader glanced at his companions before continuing, "Then you know who we are?"

The time traveler rolled his eyes, "That was a textbook snatch and grab op if I've ever seen one. Word of advice for next time, the protections on your snazzy face concealing hoods can fail if someone overpowers the hell out of a light charm.

The Unspeakable nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Now, if you want to confirm my identity like civilized members of society, I promise I won't hurt your precious rookie."

"You bastard," growled the female witch as she struggled in his grasp.

"Stop struggling Valkyrie. We'll play nice."

Harry nodded, before motioning to the Unspeakable holding his face, "You, guy who I nailed in the face. Cast the spell."

The Unspeakable growled audibly as he looked to his leader for approval. Receiving it, the wounded man stalked over to Harry and his hostage.

"No funny business. You try to cast anything other than the ID spell and Valkyrie won't be getting her wings if you know what I mean. You understand?"

The Unspeakable nodded tersely, anger obvious in his body language.

"Let's get this over with."

The Unspeakable moved within arms reach, the body of Valkyrie separating the two wizards, and slowly rolled up the sleeve on the arm held tight to Valkyrie's neck, revealing the tattoo that marked him as an Unspeakable.

"Cast the spell."

The man slowly cast the identification spell causing a small piece of parchment to appear.

"Aww shit," groaned the Unspeakable as he read the words magically carved into the parchment.

"What's wrong?" asked the Unspeakable leader, his wand arm twitching in anticipation.

"He's legit chief," said the Unspeakable tossing the parchment to his leader, "A bloody Praefectus Castrorum..."

Harry would bet serious money that the faces of all the assembled Unspeakables were all currently shocked.

The only people who currently had a higher rank than him was the Unspeakable Field Commander and the Head Unspeakable.

Releasing his hostage, Harry gave a nonchalant shrug at the obviously staring Unspeakables.

"You should probably report to medbay boys and girls," said Harry, "And you. Centurion."

The Unspeakable jerked in surprise before nodding.

"Let's go have a chat with the Boss yeah?"

* * *

AN: I know. Awesome. Now I probably should be working on my other stories but when inspiration hits, you just roll with the blows. This is my attempt on a time travel story that hopefully breaks away from the mold and a Harry that utilizes physical violence just as much as magical.

Harry can best be described as a semi functioning veteran with a slight drinking problem. He can function relatively well in normal society, but uses alcohol as a crutch. And while Harry may seem a little cockier than normal, his attitude is based off my time in the army. You don't fuck with the best. And that mentality definitely rubbed off on Harry in the eight years he served as an operative.

Romance won't be a large part of the story, but if I do throw together a pairing it will be a heterosexual relationship. Nothing against slash, but that's just not my cup of tea.

Word of warning. I'm a proud flag waving, gun toting, American soldier, so american terms are sure to find their way into the dialogue. It probably doesn't help that Gavin Free is my primary source of British slang. Its up to you guys to correct me when I inevitably mess up.

While Voldemort didn't get much screen time I plan on portraying him as a charismatic revolutionary with bouts of rage, rather than the insane monologuing snake thing he was in canon. Should be fun.

Let me know what you think, what you liked and what you didn't. Your thoughts on a young Amelia Bones, the HDF, and anything else you found interesting. I have at least three arcs planned out, and a tentative conclusion. Which is more than I can say about my other stories. Hopefully you enjoyed it and until next time.

-Private Jenkins

Edited 11Oct2015


	2. Chapter 2

"Do you have any idea how much paperwork you've caused me?" came the ranting voice of the Head Unspeakable, his face hidden by the trademark hood of the Department of Mysteries.

Harry leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe of his future/old boss's office, an amused look on his face at the old man's frustration.

The office of the Head Unspeakable would seem small and unassuming to anybody fully aware of the Department Head's power. Stuffed in a dark corner, the cramped office was filled from floor to ceiling with dusty old manuscripts, a desk covered in loose parchment, and an oddly well kept poster of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch Championship team, 1892.

-almost an entire combat squad in the infirmary! Do you even understand how much medical documentation needs to be filed-"

As his old boss continued one of his infamous rants, Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the old man's office. Thirty years into the past, and the relic's workplace still looked exactly the same as it would in the future.

"Of course you don't care about creating paperwork, I can just tell by looking at your smug little face!" complained the Unspeakable loudly, throwing his hands into the air, "You're probably laughing yourself to death about all the trouble you're causing me, aren't you?!"

Harry shrugged noncommittally, an easy grin on his face.

"Goddamn time travelers, always causing me a bloody headache," growled the Unspeakable, rubbing his temple, "Oh don't give me that confused look, I knew you were a time traveler the second you walked into my department."

Harry cocked his head to the side in apparent confusion.

"Bah!" groaned the Head as he shuffled the paperwork across his desk, knocking most of it onto the floor of the cramped office, "Ah hah!"

The Unspeakable raised a rumpled piece of parchment into the air, a noticeable mustard stain across its surface.

"Every time someone steps foot into the Department of Mysteries, one of these puppies gets conjured into my office. Damn things keep appearing over my head and instead of in the damn inbox container!" finished the Head loudly, his fist shaking futilely at the ceiling.

"So obviously, when I get a report that a field operative activated in 1999 just walked through my department, you are either a really stupid infiltrator or another goddamned time traveler."

"Another?" said Harry, speaking for the first time.

"Did I stutter? I must deal with at least a dozen travelers through time a century! Granted none of them have traveled farther than six months, so at least you're _somewhat_ interesting. So what, twenty something years? Intentional?"

Harry shook his head, "Accidental."

"Any idea of how you arrived?"

Harry paused, "Not really... Last thing I remember I was drinking in 2006 and woke up hungover in 1976."

"Ahhhh... Reminds me of the summer of 1708, though granted that was only three months, not thirty years..."

"So what happens now?" asked Harry taking a seat across the Head and waving his wand lazily, effortlessly transfiguring his chair into something more comfortable.

"Your secrecy oath, it still applies does it not?" asked the Unspeakable, collapsing tiredly into his seat.

"If you're asking whether or not I can tell the world that the infamous Immortal Alchemist Nicholas Flamel is also the crotchety old man in charge of the Department of Mysteries, then no. The secrecy oaths still work.

"Cheeky brat," muttered the Head, lowering the cowl of his cloak, revealing the ancient visage of the immortal alchemist, an indignant expression across his face, "You're a bit young to be my Praefectus Castrorum."

Harry shrugged, "I slayed a Dark Lord or two in my time... The only person I still have trouble dueling with is your wife."

Nicholas and Harry simultaneously cringed. His lovely wife was a terrifying fighter. Anyone who would throw castration charms as easily and frequently as she did had reason to be feared.

"Ahh. Well. Let's not bother the Missus anytime soon," said Nicholas carefully, as Harry nodded vehemently in agreement.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what to do with you," said the immortal contemplatively, "Usually, most travelers are the result of an experiment from R&D. You're the first Field Agent I've had to deal with."

Harry shrugged, "Dumbledore's figured out my status already, told him I was retired. I assume the Department will be just fine without me. Besides, I'd be willing to help out every once in awhile if you needed it."

"Hmm..." hummed the old man as he stroked his beard in thought, "I'd be willing to allow it. As long as you agree to a few stipulations. One, you'd stay on the reserve list, you won't run ops with my agents unless I need to activate you."

The younger Unspeakable nodded in agreement.

"Second," a cunning gleam appeared in the immortal's eye, "It seems my combat teams are not as good as they claim to be. Perhaps an expert would be willing to impart some future knowledge to my soldiers?"

"Wouldn't that break some sort of time travel law?"

"Bah! There are two prevailing thoughts on time travel. One is that everything you do has already been done once before, therefore changing nothing. Or two, your actions are rewriting the timeline as you know it, affecting change with your mere presence," lectured Flamel animatedly, "Either way, my Operatives gain an insight into magical combat in the future. It's a win-win scenario."

Harry nodded, trusting in his old boss's judgement.

"And finally you need a new identity. I can't just be calling you errr..." stumbled Nicholas, a flash of panic crossing the old man's eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes, "It's Harry old man. You really should get that case of Alzheimer's checked out."

"Cheeky brat. Who exactly are you in the future?"

"Harry James Potter-Black. Lord of the most Ancient and Noble House's Potter and Black. And also a half blood."

"Truly? The future must be a much more tolerable place."

"Ehh," grunted Harry halfheartedly.

"I'm sure the current Lords Potter and Black would not be so keen to give up their titles. Perhaps a Carrow? Their line has always been scattered about. No. They wouldn't do... You look nothing like a Weasley, and the rest of the current families have an up to date family tree... Maybe one of the extinct lines? The Pendragons haven't been seen for-"

Harry tuned out the old man as he thought out loud. The younger Unspeakable let loose a devious grin as an idea suddenly struck him.

Nicholas paused his thought process, a suspicious expression on his face as he glared at the time traveler who slowly made his way around his desk, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"What are you up to-"

"Dad! It's so nice to meet you!" laughed Harry as he hugged the old Unspeakable tightly, the old man struggling in his grasp.

"Put me down this instant! You are no son of mine!" roared Nicholas as he feebly pounded his 'son' on the back.

"But Father! Why don't you love me?"

"I will beat you senseless boy!"

"I love you too dad!"

* * *

Agent Valkyrie was not a happy woman. It was hard enough being the rookie member of Epsilon Squad. The endless hazing, the constant pranks, the dumb jokes. Valkyrie swore she was going to start murdering people. This was not the glamorous life she had expected when she was approached by an Unspeakable recruiter straight out of Hogwarts.

Tradition they say. Well they can stick their goddamn tradition where the sun!-

The female Unspeakable took deep calming breaths, drawing on the lessons of her youth. Witches of her blood were supposed to be graceful, calm, in control at all times.

Then that mother fucker just had to take her hostage!

Valkyrie growled audibly, she should have hit the cocky bastard with a damn crucio!

The woman felt her blood boil at the thought of the smug bastard. She wasn't going to hear the end of this for months!

Her only consolation was that she and the boss man were the only ones to come out physically unscathed from their failed snatch and grab. Archer had to get the bones in his left arm vanished and regrown, Loki looked like he got smashed in the face with a bludger and-

"Oooff!" grunted agent Valkyrie as she fell backwards onto the floor.

The amused target of her failed mission stood nonchalantly over her.

"You!" hissed the woman, a murderous expression on her face, unfortunately hidden behind her charmed hood.

"Me?" asked the smug bastard, a brow raised in amusement, "Aren't you that rookie from earlier? Sorry 'bout that. No hard feelings?"

Valkyrie felt her fury grow at the gall of the cocky son of a bitch in front of her, her wand already in motion, no hard feelings her ass!

One second Valkyrie had a curse at the edge of her lips, her wand nearly finished with its movements. The next, the woman found her face smashed into the cold floor, her wand arm twisted behind her and a knee jabbed harshly into her back.

"Bastard-" growled the woman as she felt the man relieve her of her wand.

"Well that was rude," quipped the man as he twirled her wand lazily through his fingers, moving from his position on top of her.

Valkyrie hopped to her feet, her hidden face burning red with embarrassment.

"Give me back my wand," growled the woman.

The man gave her an incredulous look, "After you just tried to curse me? What do I look like? An auror?"

Valkyrie let loose a small snort of amusement at the not so subtle jab at the auror corps. Incompetent wand wavers the lot of them.

"No, you'll get your wand when I'm sure I won't be getting a cruciatus to the back. Or if you say please. Either way works for me," said the man as he stopped spinning her wand in his hand, staring at it curiously.

"I swear I've seen this wand before..." muttered the bastard.

Agent Valkyrie took in a calming breath, trying to get a lid on her infamous temper, "Give me back my wand. Please."

The bastards eyes widened in shock, before he eventually shrugged and tossed her wand back at her, "Huh. I had you pegged as one of those arrogant prideful types. Didn't think you'd actually apologize."

The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "I must be getting rusty... Hehe..."

Valkyrie resisted the urge to curse the man again. Her past two attempts proving her inferiority to the bastard's fighting ability.

"Why the hell are you walking around here without an escort bastard?" asked the woman angrily.

"Bastard? Ouch. You wound me. I much prefer Harry," grinned Harry as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "Besides, I work here. Be a bit odd if I needed a babysitter at my workplace eh?"

"Then why the hell were we ordered to capture you dead or alive?"

Harry shrugged, "What can I say? I pissed off the old man... It's how he shows he loves me. Besides, it's good training for you guys. I'm not exactly an easy target to take down..."

Valkyrie rolled her eyes at the arrogant twat, "Cocky bastard."

Harry gave her an easy grin, "It's a character flaw. Call it the result of being the golden boy back in school."

"You? The golden boy?"

"I've come a long way..." grinned Harry, "You're Agent Valkyrie of Sigma Squad right?"

Valkyrie nodded slowly.

"I'll be sure to remember that..." a mischievous look flashed across Harry's face, "Rookie..."

If the bastard didn't suddenly apparate Valkyrie swore she would've choked the asshole to death.

* * *

"Harry! I swear to merlin if I have to drag you out of bed again, I'm going to kick your ass!"

Harry groaned tiredly as he rolled out of bed and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Mmphgh..." moaned the Unspeakable loudly as he rubbed the purpling bruise across his chest.

"Don't you moan at me Mister! I know where you sleep! Now hurry up and get out here. Someone wants to talk to you!"

"Love you too Rosie..." groaned Harry sarcastically as summoned a healing salve off his dresser. The burly Unspeakable from last night got him pretty good with that haymaker, a dark bruise branching out over his left pectoral.

Harry turned as his door suddenly burst open and a pair of women came barging into his space.

"Damn it Harry, how long does it take for you to get ready?" bemoaned Rosmerta, the pretty brunette dragging her companion behind her.

"Morning Rosie," nodded Harry, rolling his eyes at his landlord/boss's lack of barriers, "You too Amy."

Standing awkwardly behind the brunette, the petite redheaded auror shifted silently. Her auror robes replaced with a set of casual robes.

"Now why exactly-" Rosmerta paused mid sentence, "What the hell happened to you? And are those claw marks?"

Harry glanced down at that particular set of scars Rosie was asking about. Memories of a mission gone wrong, a broom on fire, and getting swatted out of the sky by a particularly ornery undead dragon came to mind.

"Testaments of an adventurous youth."

Rosie scoffed motioning at his scar ridden body, "What? As a lion tamer?"

"I prefer the term exotic dancer."

"A stripper Harry? Really?" deadpanned Rosmerta, disbelief evident on the pretty woman's face.

"My clients were very rough."

Rosie stared at him dumbly, before throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Forget it! Don't care! He's all yours Amelia, I've got errands to run," exclaimed Rosmerta stalking out of his room, muttering about lying good for nothing waiters and their stupid sexy bodies.

Harry grinned at Rosie's antics before running a hand through his shaggy hair, "What can I do for you Amy?"

The auror moved into his room, closing the door behind her, "I need your help."

* * *

"Umm... Harry?" asked Amelia, her posture rigid.

"Yes Amy?" said Harry as he dug into his bowl of ice cream with gusto.

"When I asked if you knew where we could talk in private," the auror lowered her voice to a hissing whisper, "I didn't think an ice cream shop in Diagon Alley was an option!"

"Ahh..." hummed Harry as he pointed a chocolate covered spoon at the auror, "That's your first mistake. Rule number one of covert meetings is to have them in public."

Amelia looked at the retired Unspeakable like he was crazy, "That's idiotic."

Taking another bite, Harry simply smiled, "I think the term you are looking for is genius."

"Take a look around, what do you see?"

Amelia took a quick glance around the shop before answering, "Thirteen heads, seven male, six female. All under the ages of thirty excluding the shop owner who is a middle aged white male between forty and forty five. None appear to have any military or law enforcement training, however the male directly on my nine has a wand holster, implying at least a familiarity with some form of self defense."

Harry nodded simply, "Do you know what I see?"

"I see six pairs of couples enjoying some warm cups of coffee on this cold winter day, although the couple in the corner seem to be going through a rough patch. Poor bugger. He's going to be heartbroken."

Amelia gave him a confused look, "I don't understand."

Harry sighed, "What it means Miss Bones, is that sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight. We appear for all intents and purposes, as a couple on a date. And to anyone trying to eavesdrop on us, we would be heard engaged in a scandalous conversation about the merits of public sex."

Amy's cheeks tinted red slightly at the thought.

"A date is infinitely less suspicious than clandestine meetings in the dark Amy, do try to keep up."

Amelia gaped before taking in a deep calming breath, "So what we're saying is completely private?"

"Well if you consider the fact that anyone listening in just heard you proposition me for some raunchy midnight encounters, than yes. Private."

Harry chuckled as the auror's face reddened in embarrassment.

Regaining her composure, Amelia continued, "I need your help. I wasn't sure who to trust but I think the Dark Lord has spies in the Auror Corps..."

Harry gave the auror an incredulous look, "So you come to me? You do know we've only interacted maybe twice right? I thought you were trying to seduce me!"

"What? No! I wasn't trying to-I mean, I don't have anyone else I can go to!" exclaimed the redhead frantically, shaking her head, "I'm not exactly the most sociable of people. And I don't know who to trust in the department! I figured you were my best chance at help, being a former y'know."

Harry rubbed his temples, "I was _sure_ you were trying to seduce me. Why do you think the Auror's have been compromised? And why me?"

"There's been too many coincidences adding up. Undermanned patrols getting attacked. Secure shipments getting stolen. Safe houses getting compromised. Information only an auror would know. Once is an accident. Twice is coincidence..."

"Three times is an enemy action," finished Harry, completing the old adage. The time traveler barely restrained a sigh.

Despite traveling thirty years to the past, Harry had for the most part, ignored the reality of his situation. He was currently right in the middle of the first wizarding war. He knew for a fact the Auror Corps in nineteen seventy six was corrupt. Hell, there were already books written about it during his time.

Voldemort was still alive.

The bastard had been dead for so long, it felt almost surreal to acknowledge the fact. Harry had grown up and moved on after the war of his youth. He was far from the undertrained and underprepared boy who beat the Dark Lord with a disarming charm.

He had battled dragons in the depths of tombs long forgotten, fought in the Great Vampire Wars that had threatened to spill into the muggle world, and put down a budding Dark Lord hoping to fill the shoes of his failed predecessor. Harry was no longer that scared little boy. He was an Unspeakable. The best.

Voldemort was still alive. And neither can live while the other survives. Harry gave a small snort of amusement. The damn prophecy still hung over his head like a guillotine.

"Harry?"

The Unspeakable sighed softly, "Amy. Listen to me carefully. I'm not as retired as I've led you to believe. I want you to start compiling me a list of names. People you suspect, their associates, anything you can find. But do so quietly. You can't trust anybody."

Amelia nodded conspiratorially.

"I'll talk to my people. You get me those names and we'll take care of them."

"Take care of them?"

"Less you know the better Amy," said Harry, pointing at his head, "You don't want that kind of knowledge floating around your head if you can help it."

Amy nodded.

"Second, we'll be officially dating now Amy."

The auror choked, "W-what?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "We need a reason to interact. When an attractive auror starts meeting with a roguishly handsome waiter, people are going to talk. It's called a cover Amy, Merlin it's like you've never done this before."

Harry groaned at the sheepish look the auror was giving him.

"Look we need to-" Harry froze as a foreboding feeling crept across his spine, before a massive boom violently shook the shop.

"An attack?"

Amy nodded, standing up abruptly, wand in hand.

"That's what I was afraid of," said Harry, as he deactivated the charms hiding his Unspeakable cloak, and raised the enchanted hood over his head, concealing his identity.

The screech of panicked screams echoed loudly outside the shop.

Harry charged out of the building to a scene of chaos. Flames were bursting from a myriad of broken shops, while Death Eaters robed in black marched down the alley, cutting down civilians left and right.

"Goddamn cowards," growled Harry as he banished a splintered wooden beam into the stomach of a distracted Death Eater, the cruciatus curse he was casting suddenly and violently stopping.

Jabbing his wand forward, Harry quickly shouted to the female auror beside him, "Auror Bones! Catch!"

The Unspeakable twisted his wand backwards, summoning a wave of panicked civilians towards him and away from the Death Eaters. Without pausing to see if Amelia caught them, Harry exploded into action.

A pair of shaggy grizzly bears twisted into creation as Harry's magic transformed them from the broken wreckage into lumbering beasts of destruction. Another quick wave of the Unspeakable's wand saw the sudden creation of spiked metal armor forming on the creatures, adding an additional layer of protection on the already terrifying beasts.

Sprinting to the closest Death Eater in sight, Harry ducked under a particularly nasty blood boiling curse and slammed a savage fist into the man's unprotected stomach. Before the unfortunate Death Eater could finish dry heaving, Harry was already behind the man, using him as a shield, as the telltale flash of the killing curse connecting with the terrorist.

Slamming his palm into the dead Death Eater's back, Harry wandlessly banished the dead man at his opponents.

Diving out of the way of another killing curse, Harry grasped the hidden knife he kept hidden in his boot and sent it flying. Moving in a practiced motion, the Unspeakable waved his wand, activating the replication charm on the blade, transforming the lone blade into over a dozen.

An unfortunate pair of Death Eaters found their lives tragically cut short as the silver blades flew through their shields and pinned them violently to the wall.

Harry let loose a grim smile at the frantic screams of a pair of Death Eaters as his transfigured bears mauled them to death.

"Crucio!"

Harry snarled in pain as a torture curse slammed into his side, causing the familiar feeling of a thousand knives driving themselves into his body. The strength of the spell driving him to his knees.

The Unspeakable gasped for breath the second the curse ended and silently cast a pair of bone breakers in the general direction from where the cruciatus curse came from.

"Impressive. Not many can cast so quickly after suffering under my grasp..." came a friendly sounding voice, as Harry rolled backwards out of the way of another crucio.

Glancing up at his opponent, Harry flinched, causing a bone crushing hex to nearly take his head off.

"Ahhh. I see you have recognized me," drawled the handsome looking man standing in the middle of the burning street, flames licking the bottom of his robes harmlessly, "I am Lord Voldemort. It is a pleasure."

The self proclaimed dark lord bowed dramatically, an easy smile on his remarkably human face.

"I can't say I feel the same my lord," quipped Harry sarcastically, as he kept an eye on the Death Eaters stalking alongside their lord.

"A pity," shrugged the dark lord, his frightfully intelligent eyes seemingly locking with Harry's through his enchanted cowl, "It it not often a ministry Unspeakable openly duels my servants as you have. I was under the impression your organization was more, _clandestine,_ in such matters."

Harry outwardly shrugged as he struggled to silently break the anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards around him, "I have a tendency to defy expectations."

The genial smile of the dark lord was far more intimidating than his future counterpart's, as the dark lord spread his arms wide dramatically.

"Then let us put that to the test. I expect my Death Eaters will kill you," Voldemort's lip curled cruelly into a smile, "I challenge you to defy my expectations..."

The dark lord had barely finished speaking before Harry burst into motion.

Six Death Eaters plus the dark lord. Harry gave an inward sigh of relief as Lord Voldemort moved to the rear, seemingly content to watch.

"Protego," hissed Harry, forming an advanced version of the basic shield spell entirely around his left hand as he twisted underneath a killing curse.

Harry let loose a savage grin as one of the Death Eaters fired a bone crushing hex at him. Sliding towards the curse, Harry swung his protego covered hand at the hex and smacked it, sending the spell directly back at its caster, crushing the man's chest with his own spell.

"You'll pay for that-"

The former Unspeakable dove sideways out of the way of an unknown dark curse, and waved his wand across the battlefield.

Chunks of mortar and debris shook violently before twisting into hundreds of snarling oversized rats.

Continuing his spell chain, Harry's wide arcing wand movement transitioned into the sharp jab of a banishing spell, sending the newly created creatures flying at the Death Eaters.

Harry roared in pain as a bludgeoning curse clipped his side, sending the Unspeakable crashing through the glass display window of a nearby shop.

The Unspeakable's vision blurred as crimson blood ran down a cut on his skull and into his eyes. Harry groaned as he lifted himself off the floor, small pieces of debris falling off his cloak as he did so.

"Avada Kedavra!" snarled a burly Death Eater, the larger man able to physically beat off the transfigured creatures far quicker than his companions.

Harry wandlessly summoned a nearby display case in front of him, blocking the killing curse, while his wand hand conjured a vicious looking blade attached to a length of chain.

"Your death will be the first of many-" roared the Death Eater before suddenly stopping. A blade buried deep in his chest.

"Shut the fuck up mate," growled Harry, before tugging on the chain that connected the Unspeakable to the Death Eater.

The unfortunate man found himself hurtling through the air at the Unspeakable, before collapsing bonelessly as an elbow struck the Death Eater directly in the face.

With barely a backwards glance, Harry threw a cutting curse at the Death Eaters throat, finishing the man permanently.

Stepping out of the destroyed storefront, Harry was pleased to see that his wave of killer rats was able to bring down at least two of his opponents. The spell was the brainchild of his best friend and partner in crime, Ron Weasley.

Apparently Peter Pettigrew left a foul taste in the redhead's mouth, as the future Auror Captain took great pleasure every time a 'Scabbers' died.

That left just two Death Eaters to kill.

Harry spat out a mouthful of blood, "Who's first?"

The last two Death Eaters glanced at each other before turning simultaneously, casting curses as fast as the two could fire.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as the curses flew by his head, this battle of life or death was a complete rush for the former operative.

It was just him versus the enemy.

Harry dove backwards, his wand flying through complicated movements as he did so.

The smaller of the two Death Eaters staggered backwards in shock as a fissure in the earth erupted beneath his companion sending his partner screaming into the abyss.

"Aguamenti!" hissed Harry, sending a stream of water at his opponent. With practiced ease, Harry flicked his wand, transmuting the water into a spear of ice.

The final Death Eater screamed in agony as the ice spear pinned him to a wall.

"Sectumsempra," growled Harry audibly, the curse severing the screaming Death Eaters head.

A sharp clap echoed loudly in the burning alley, as the dark lord slowly made his way forward.

"Bravo," smiled the dark lord, "Bravo indeed."

Harry kept a firm grasp on his wand, as he paced in front of the dark lord, the subtle magic behind him slowly finishing its job.

"You are quite the fighter," purred Voldemort, motioning to his fallen servants, "I had not realized the quality of your organization's soldiers."

Harry gave a bloody grin, his face hidden by his cloak, "Your servants aren't exactly professionals..."

"Indeed my friend, while zealous in their enthusiasm, their fighting abilities leave much to be desired."

Harry shrugged, agreeing with the dark lords assessment.

"Unfortunately for you," hissed Voldemort, raising his wand high above his head, "It is time for you to die."

Lord Voldemort froze, as the telltale magical backlash of a failing ward washed over the two combatants.

Harry gave a sigh of relief. Amelia had decided to focus on bringing down the anti-apparation and portkey wards instead of joining the melee. Bless her heart.

The Unspeakable was grateful for the petite woman's forward thinking as a wave of aurors popped into the blown out alley, Albus Dumbledore at their head.

Voldemort snarled in anger, his handsome face twisting into fury, "Dumbledore!"

"Tom," said Albus Dumbledore serenely.

The dark lord hissed in fury, his situation now severely outnumbered as a full auror platoon leveled their wands at the dark lord.

"You," snarled Voldemort, his eyes boring into the tired Unspeakable, "Cower in your anonymity for now Unspeakable... For I will discover your true identity... And you will _suffer._ "

Harry didn't bother to respond, instead raising a single middle finger in retort.

Voldemort snarled at the response, before turning on his heel disappearing into black smoke.

Harry slumped tiredly onto the ground, the adrenaline slowly wearing off. As the auror platoon made their way around the burnt out alley, putting out fires and checking for survivors, Harry tiredly rested his elbows on his thighs taking deep calming breaths.

A dozen Death Eaters solo. Not too fucking shabby. Not what he was expecting when he woke up this morning, but taking a look around the still standing alley, things could've been a lot worse.

"Umm excuse me?"

Harry glanced up, an elderly couple standing over him.

"You're bleeding," pointed out the older woman, motioning at his arm, where a deep cut was bleeding profusely.

"Ahhh," said Harry tiredly, "Thanks..."

"We owe you our lives my friend," said the elderly gentleman, the man waving his wand around deliberately, casting a complicated healing spell.

Harry sighed in relief as he felt the muscles and sinew in his arm knit themselves back together.

"I understand your position as an Unspeakable means I'll be unable to properly thank you. However..." the old man cast a charm on the bulky ring gracing his finger, a smaller duplicate appearing in his hand, "This will mark you as a friend of the family. If you are ever in need of assistance, the House of Potter is your ally."

Harry stared blankly at the elderly couple.

The House of who?

Awww shit.

* * *

AN: And that's a wrap. I'm shocked at the response this has gotten. Over two hundred followers and thirty something reviews for one chapter? Damn. Consider me grateful. A lot of stuff going on in this chapter. Nicholas Flamel as the crotchety director, a new character in Agent Valkyrie, corruption in the auror corps, an attack on diagon alley, and the brief cameo of Harry's grandparents.

A couple of things to note; I'm not a huge fan of OC's. A fun fact is that all the Unspeakables are canon characters. Second, the Unspeakable ranks are based off of the ancient roman army. No Google translate, these are actual ranks used.

Like always, any constructive criticism is appreciated, I'm not a professional writer and I'm sure it shows. The pacing definitely felt a little off on this one. Only 5k words this time, which incidentally will probably be the norm. In regards to the next chapter, there may be a bit of a delay. I won't break OpSec, but I got a NTC rotation for the army coming up really soon, and I'll have zero time to work on this. So the next chapter will come out really soon or in a month or two.

Until next time.

-Private Jenkins

P.S. This story has been written entirely on my phone. Crazy. I know.

Edited 11Oct2015


	3. Chapter 3

Charlus Potter knew something was wrong. It was that odd feeling in his gut that something just wasn't right. An instinct that saved his life many times before during the War.

He was an old man now. When he fought in the Great War thirty years ago, he was a much younger man. Powerful, young, a full head of hair, he was once one of the most feared wizards in all of the magical world. One of the infamous five who stood besides Dumbledore during that final push into the depths of Germany, staving off the elite soldiers of Grindelwald long enough so Albus could finish the war.

And by God did they succeed.

He had almost died today.

It was such an average day. The temperature was a bit chillier than he was normally comfortable with. Diagon Alley was busy, but not too crowded. Nothing to suggest today would be any different than any other day.

Then the world exploded.

It was like a light switch. One second he was walking down the street with his lovely wife, Dorea. The next, he was thirty years in the past, reliving an artillery barrage in a small coastal village in France.

The aftermath of the Great War was difficult to adjust to.

Battle fatigue they called it. Soldiers who never really stopped fighting the war. Real or imagined.

Charlus was grateful it wasn't called a disorder. Well, not yet at least.

However; it almost got him and his wife killed.

That Death Eater never should have got the drop on him. He'd survived ambushes that left no survivors but himself. Fought and killed wizards others were far too afraid to face. He was better than that.

The cruciatus curse was something Charlus never wanted to experience again. His mind was detached as the torture curse caused his aged body to scream and convulse violently.

He was going to die. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. He would never be able to see his boy graduate. Watch James grow up into the man he knew he'd be proud of. Live to hold his grandchildren in his arms. Kiss his wife one last time…

And then the curse stopped.

With blurry, tear ridden eyes, the old man glanced up at the Death Eater torturing him, and was shocked to see the man impaled by a massive wooden spike.

Charlus barely had time to grab onto his unconscious wife, before a magical pull on his navel sent the old soldier flying backwards through the air, his unknown savior summoning him and his wife away from the Death Eaters.

The old veteran twisted his body underneath his wife's, determined to protect his wife the best he could.

It was all for naught however, as a petite red headed woman waved her wand and gently lowered the couple to the ground.

Charlus laid on his side, gasping for breath as he watched the battle between one man and over a dozen Death Eaters.

It was brutal.

It was a fight straight out of the War.

There was no mercy in the lone defender's actions, every movement was made with purpose and experience. Efficiency. The man was the shining example of it.

But he wasn't perfect. It wasn't obvious to the untrained eye, but the Unspeakable wasn't used to fighting alone. The way he moved, as if he was in an unseen formation, the way he hesitated to defend, as if he was used to someone else protecting his back.

This was a man fighting without his team.

"Dorea my love, are you alright," asked Charlus, his shaking hand wiping the blood from his beloved's eyes.

"Charlie?" whispered his wife, the former Black moaning in pain.

"I'm right here my love..." cooed Charlus softly, as he tucked a stray black strand of hair behind his wife's ear.

"T-that woman," hissed Dorea in pain, "Help her..."

Charlus glanced backwards at the young red headed woman from earlier, who was frantically casting, trying to bring down the anti-apparation and portkey wards covering the alley.

"Of course my love," acknowledged Charlus, as he struggled to his feet. Moving next to the younger woman, Charlus gave a nod of appreciation before lifting his wand and began muttering the counter curse for the offending wards.

Charlus's eyes widened as he saw the lone Unspeakable take a curse to the side and go flying through a shop window. A presence besides him brought his attention to his wife, a determined expression on her face as she brought her wand out and began to chant alongside her husband.

Charlus could feel it. The life debt that connected the House of Potter to this unknown savior.

The ancient magic gently reminding the Lord Potter, that he owed his life to the man.

Charlus may not have had the reflexes and speed of his youth, but what he did still have was power.

Charlus never could figure out how Dumbledore seemed so much more powerful with age though. The ol' bearded bastard.

But it was his carefully cultivated power that allowed him to finally push the wards to their breaking point, until the satisfying snap caused the telltale magical backlash of a fallen ward.

The old veteran sighed in relief as a full complement of aurors popped into existence, with his old friend Albus Dumbledore at their head.

As the dark lord fled, Charlus grasped his wife's hand and made their way to their tired savior.

The young man, and it was obvious by the Unspeakable's body definition that it was at the very least, a well built man; sat alone on the side of the alley. The man's arms rested gently on his thighs, while he took slow measured breaths.

A nasty cut bisected the man's arm, bright red blood oozing from the wound.

"Umm excuse me?" his wife chirped awkwardly, as they moved next to the resting Unspeakable.

"You're bleeding," pointed out his wife to the Unspeakable.

The man jerked, as if just realizing his injury.

"Ahhh," said the Unspeakable tiredly, "Thanks..."

Charlus raised a brow as he moved closer to the Unspeakable, examining the man's injured arm. He doubted the Unspeakable realized his voice changing charm failed, as the tired sounding voice of a young man emanated from his concealing hood.

"We owe you our lives my friend," said Charlus, as he used an old battlefield charm to knit the man's arm back together.

"I understand your position as an Unspeakable means I'll be unable to properly thank you. However..."

Charlus cast an ancient family spell on his family ring, creating a smaller duplicate with the House of Potter family sigil engraved onto it.

"This will mark you as a friend of the family. If you are ever in need of assistance, the House of Potter is your ally."

The old veteran couldn't help but notice the Unspeakable's subtle flinch at the name Potter.

"I-uuhh-there is no need for that Lord Potter," stammered the injured man defensively.

Charlus narrowed his eyes, "Nonsense my friend, we owe you our lives. It is the least we can do."

The Lord Potter grasped the other man's forearm, and forcefully placed the ring into the Unspeakable's bloody hand.

What he didn't expect was for the ring of friendship to flare magically and transform itself into the the bulky form of the Potter Head of Household ring. The very same ring that graced his finger for the past thirty years.

Charlus gasped in shock at the implications. Only someone of Potter blood could become Lord of the household, and never in recorded history had there been two Lords at the same time.

"How?-

"Ohh shit," flinched the Unspeakable as he pushed himself back and away from the Potters, before apparating away rapidly.

Charlus stared at the spot where the Unspeakable disappeared from dumbfounded, before turning to his equally surprised wife.

"I believe a trip to the magical registry is in order my dear..." muttered Charlus, his hand twisting the ring around his finger, "Apparently the family tree is not as endangered as I once believed."

Two Lord Potters.

The world as Charlus knew it was changing. Charlus was just grateful he was still alive to see it.

* * *

"Oh shit, bugger me in the fucking arsehole, goddamn fucking fuck!" Harry growled as he apparated into the relative safety of his room at the Three Broomsticks.

Harry was so screwed.

Lord Charlus Potter, Head of the Potter family and also his paternal grandfather, had just accidentally appointed his future grandson as the second Lord Potter.

The Unspeakable winced as a sharp pain exploded from his side, probably some broken ribs there.

The part time waiter tossed aside his tattered cloak and examined his injured side.

Harry hissed in pain as he ran his experienced fingers over his ribs. Definitely broken. Grabbing a flask filled with skele-grow, Harry hesitated before downing the nasty concoction.

Harry massaged his temples as he tried to stomach the healing potion. Harry had never even heard of two Lords at the same time. When he traveled backwards through time, his Head of House Rings signifying him as Lord Potter-Black hadn't traveled back with him. He'd assumed having two Lords of the same house was impossible. Apparently not. Bloody fantastic.

Would the same thing happen if Harry met with the current Lord Black? Harry shuddered at the political fallout that would occur.

Hell, Harry didn't know how his grandfather would react either. The man had been dead long before he'd ever been born. An attack on Diagon Alley during the first wizarding war.

Oh. Well shit.

Harry opened up his dresser and grabbed a half empty bottle of whiskey and drained it. The comforting burn of alcohol settling into his stomach.

His grandparents were alive. Harry had caught glimpses of the his mother and father since he traveled back in time. He even served his mother at the Three Broomsticks not too long ago. But it was hard to associate the fifteen year old versions of his parents with the people who died twenty five years ago on that fateful Halloween.

They felt more like distant younger cousins. Family, but not a big part of his life.

His grandparents however... It wasn't until Harry was in his twenties that he started to hear the stories surrounding his grandparents. War heroes. Not just war heroes but War Heroes. Fighters in a conflict that spanned continents. As a modern day soldier, Harry had the utmost respect for the Old Guard. People always talked about how Dumbledore ended the war when he defeated Grindelwald. His grandparents were part of the infamous five that made Dumbledore's victory possible.

And he just saved their lives.

Harry took deep calming breaths, his chest heaving with every exhale.

He could work with this. His little jaunt backwards through time may have been unintentional. But he was goddamn Harry mother fucking Potter!

Thirty years in the past? No problem. He'd just have to improvise.

Despite no longer having the political power he held in the future as Lord of House Potter and Black and as the Man-Who-Conquered, Harry still had a variety of options available to him.

The Hogwarts/Hogsmeade Defense Force was led by the lovely Amelia Bones. A competent woman, who was intent on rooting out the corruption in the auror ranks. She was skilled and at the very least, someone Harry could go to for help.

There was also the Unspeakables to consider. He may not command the same respect as he did in the future, but he knew Nicholas like few did. If things got too hot running solo, he could count on at least some backup.

And of course there was Dumbledore. Harry loved the old man like a grandfather, but this wasn't the same man who looked after him as a schoolboy.

Granted, looking back Dumbledore could've done a lot better than he had, but at least he tried. It wasn't his fault he was so damn old. Nicholas was the same. Well meaning, but out of touch.

Harry made a mental note to not live that long. Best to die in a blaze of glory. But seriously, if worse came to worse, Harry was sure the Order of Phoenix would come to his assistance. Maybe. Hopefully.

Harry sighed and stared at the empty bottle of whiskey morosely. Life was so much easier drunk.

Too bad there was work to do.

* * *

Amelia hadn't seen Harry since the attack. It had been a week since the lone Unspeakable held off a dozen Death Eaters and forced the dark lord to flee. Or at least, that's what the ministry propaganda machine was publishing, crediting a brave ministry official with the defense of Diagon Alley.

Minister Bagnold's ratings have never been higher. A complicated ministry defense plan brought to fruition by one of the ministry's top operatives. Utter bollocks of course, but the people loved it.

To hear the wizarding world talk about it, Harry had single handedly defeated the dark lord's army and beat Voldemort in a broom race.

Sometimes people's delusions frightened the auror.

Harry had been quite amazing though. She'd never seen anything like it. The man fought with a predatory grace that was unlike anything she had ever witnessed. It was almost as if the part time waiter had fought his entire life.

He reminded her of her older brother Edgar. Edgar Bones was a bit of a legend in wizarding Britain. Dropping out of Hogwarts at the age of fifteen to fight in the Great War, her brother was one of the five heroes who fought alongside Dumbledore at the end of the war.

The two had a confidence born of heroic deeds and terrible battles. Where her brother exuded a quiet strength the few times he visited, Harry gave off a roguish confidence that never quite crossed into arrogance.

And now she couldn't find him.

Harry was unique. Amelia was never one for social interaction. At Hogwarts, she'd been focused on becoming an auror. As a Hufflepuff, she was the prime example of a hard worker. No time for anything but her goal. As an auror, she was dedicated to becoming the best. Socialization was a distraction.

Then she responded to an attack at the Hogs Head. A Death Eater raid where the only casualties were Death Eaters? She'd expected a squad of off duty aurors or a team of hitwizards when she walked into the bar.

Definitely not an intoxicated wizard with a charming smile.

An Unspeakable.

Not many knew of the two type of Unspeakables working in the Department of Mysteries. There was the Research and Development section, where the wizarding world's best and brightest worked on the mysteries of magic itself. And then there were the Field Operatives.

You didn't choose them, they chose you. The deadliest fighters the wizarding world had to offer. To even be offered a position in their ranks was an acknowledgment of your skill.

Amelia had initially dismissed the idea of becoming an Unspeakable. Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had always been her goal. Though her opinion might have changed in the past couple months. Mainly due to the annoying wizard who insisted on calling her Amy.

Harry the Unspeakable. He wasn't anything like what she expected an Unspeakable to be. Maybe a younger Alastor Moody, paranoid and trigger happy. Not a charismatic wizard who enjoyed joking around and embarrassing her and could also wipe the floor with her in a matter of seconds.

And after the display at Diagon Alley? He could probably challenge the majority of the auror corps and come out on top.

Amelia winced as a wizard bumped into her as she walked her patrol through Hogsmeade.

"Don't react, it's me Harry," came a miniature voice in her ear, "I don't know if you are being watched yet, so just listen and act naturally."

The petite auror's eyes widened in shock at the familiar voice of Hogsmeade's resident Unspeakable.

Amelia stuffed her hands into her cloak and carefully continued her march around the snow covered village.

"So first off, how's it going love? Been a bit busy, haven't had time to talk. Rosie thinks I'm off visiting family in Romania. Which makes me wonder if I really do have family there... Knowing my luck, it's definitely a possibility..."

Amelia rolled her eyes at the ramblings of her friend. To think she was worried about the Unspeakable.

"Anyway, so I've done some digging, you were right about the corruption in the auror corps," said the static ridden voice in her ear, "It's harder to find someone who isn't dirty to be honest. Gawain Robards. You know of him? One cough for yes. Two for no."

The petite auror wrapped her cloak around her closer and quietly coughed once.

Gawain Robards. An up and coming auror captain, the man was known for having friends in high places.

"Good. The man's no Death Eater, but he's more than willing to turn a blind eye for some of their gold."

Amelia sneered at the thought.

"Yeah, definitely an arsehole," quipped the quiet voice in her ear, "You'll find a folder hidden underneath your desk back at the department. Everything you need to take the bastard down."

The pretty red head gave a small nod as thanks as she trudged through the snow.

"Well it's been fun talking with you Amy," said Harry, "But I gotta run darling."

"Wait!" hissed Amelia freezing in her tracks.

"Ohh?"

Amelia glanced at her surroundings before muttering quietly, "When will I see you again?"

There was a noticeable pause, where Amelia just knew Harry had a shit eating grin.

"Awww... I missed you too Amy!" chirped Harry in her ear, "I've got places to break into and things to steal tonight, but tomorrow at the Hog's Head? Say, seven?"

Amelia coughed once in agreement.

"It's a date!" chuckled Harry, "Until next time..."

The low buzzing noise in her ear disappeared as she stood alone underneath the full moon. Amelia was glad Harry was doing okay. After he'd disappeared…

The auror squeaked loudly as she felt something pinch her bum.

Amelia took back everything. Harry was an ass.

* * *

"Nicky, my boy, I need your help," asked Harry as he sat on the Head Unspeakable's desk.

"Bah!" grunted the Immortal Alchemist as he swung an oversized scroll at the younger man's head, "Stop calling me that damn it!

"Well you still won't let me call you Dad... I need to call you something y'know!" quipped Harry, ducking underneath another savage swipe from the old man.

"You are the most infuriating Unspeakable I have ever had the displeasure of knowing. Do you have any idea how much work your little spat in Diagon Alley has caused me?" bemoaned the older man, "I swear I've hadn't had to interact with this many nosy people since the House Elf Rebellions. Which reminds me."

The immortal alchemist rustled through his desk drawers before tossing a silver plaque at Harry.

"There you go, one Order of Merlin Second Class, awarded for services rendered. Made out to the 'Hero of Diagon Alley.' Stupid title you got there," said Nicholas, his face scrunched up in distaste, "Sounds like a dumb geometry joke if you ask me..."

Harry turned the plaque over in his hand before shrugging and stuffing it in his pocket.

"So about that favor Dad..."

"I swear to God, I'll adopt you into the family just so I can disown you."

Harry snorted in amusement, "I need to borrow one of your operatives. Miss Valkyrie to be exact."

Nicholas raised an ancient brow, "And why exactly should I lend you of all people, one of my agents?"

"You wanted me to impart some knowledge to your troops correct? Think of it as an educational field trip on future magical burglary with yours truly. Also, I need to steal some stuff from a certain school..."

"And why Agent Valkyrie specifically?"

Harry shrugged, "She's feisty. Also, a woman. Not being sexist mind you, but job I got in mind needs a woman's touch. Literally. As in I physically need a woman's touch or I'm screwed. Have I mentioned I'm not sexist? Very tolerant us future folk. Kind of. Well, not really. But I am. Honestly!"

Nicholas let loose a tired sigh at Harry's antics, shaking his head with a minute amount of amusement, "Fine. She's all yours. Bring her back in one piece please?"

Harry grinned, "Aye aye Cap'n."

The immortal shook his head before picking up an old rotary phone and dialing carefully.

"Agent Valkyrie. Report to my office immediately. That is all."

Nicholas looked back up at the younger Unspeakable, "Don't make me regret this."

Harry nodded, serious for once, "Yes sir."

The younger Unspeakable chuckled softly as Agent Valkyrie burst into Nicholas's office, quickly moving to the position of attention.

"At ease," waved Nicholas, causing the woman to immediately move into a relaxed position, "Damn it Harry, this is how you're supposed to act, show a little respect."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Whatever you say Father..."

Nicholas growled as the manuscript he threw at the younger Unspeakable missed.

"Agent Valkyrie," said the Head Unspeakable, ignoring Harry, "I'm placing you under the direct command of Agent..."

Nicholas glanced contemplatively at Harry.

"Agent Ares. He will be your commanding officer for the time being. Is that understood?"

The woman hesitated before nodding, "Yes sir."

"Excellent. Agent Ares will brief you on your mission. Dismissed."

Harry gave Valkyrie his best charming smile, only to be ignored as the woman stalked angrily out of Nicholas's office.

The immortal smirked at Harry, "Have fun boy... And remember. You asked for her."

Harry gave a nonchalant shrug before pushing out of the old man's office into the dark hallway of the Department of Mysteries.

Standing outside was Agent Valkyrie, her body language giving off a sense of hostility.

"Sir," acknowledged Valkyrie, the word spat out like a dirty curse.

Harry raised his hands in surrender, "Listen, Valerie. I think we got off on the wrong foot. You tried to kidnap me with your little friends and I took you hostage. And kicked your ass. Twice."

Despite her face being concealed by her hood, Harry could just feel the power of Valkyrie's death glare.

"What I'm trying to say is..." Harry tried another charming smile, "Peace?"

The female Unspeakable stood there blankly before exhaling deeply.

"What is our mission sir?"

Harry grinned, "Feel like a Hogwarts visit?"

* * *

"What the hell are we doing? Why are we here?" hissed Agent Valkyrie, the female Unspeakable crouched behind Harry as the two crept through the darkened halls of Hogwarts.

"You know," whispered Harry as he peered around a corner, before moving stealthily into the hallway, "I don't think you understand the mechanics of a stealth mission do you?"

"Please," Harry could just feel the sarcasm in that single statement, "We're covered in so many stealth charms I doubt Merlin himself could track us. And our internal comms mean we can communicate without being heard."

Harry rolled his eyes before speaking over the communication charm connecting the two, "Well I know that... But complacency kills and all that hogwash..."

Harry moved up to an unassuming statue and poked it softly in the stomach. The gentle hiss of releasing air sounded as the statue of the way, revealing a hidden passage.

"And how the hell do you know of all these hidden passageways? We must have gone through at least six!"

Harry grinned, although his mirth was hidden by his charmed hood, "Your Hogwarts days must have been boring ehh Valerie?"

Valkyrie snorted before muttering under her breath, "Twenty galleons you were a bloody Gryffindor..."

Harry traced his hand over the brick and mortar passageway, until his fingers caught on a smooth piece of metal.

"Alright, this is where you come in Valerie," quipped Harry as he cast a quick Lumos, illuminating the corridor.

"It's Valkyrie," hissed the female Unspeakable.

"Uhuh, you got it Valerie," said Harry, waving off the women's complaints, "I need you to kiss this for me, please and thank you."

Harry pointed at the innocuous looking strip of metal, before motioning to his companion.

The female Unspeakable glanced at the wall before looking back at Harry.

"You're joking..." deadpanned Agent Valkyrie.

Harry shook his head, "Nope. This is Salazar Slytherin's work. Man was a bit of a pervert, most of his secret passageways require a female's touch to work and an odd bit of magic dictates they have to be relatively attractive. Drove my best mate's girl batty when she wasn't deemed worthy. Ranted for days about sexist pigs"

Harry reminisced fondly on the summer after he killed Voldemort. Just him, Ron, and Hermione, exploring the secrets of Hogwarts.

"So Valerie," continued Harry, shaking off the fond memories, "Think you're good enough for ol' Salazar Slytherin?"

Harry was glad he was out of arm's reach. Something about Valerie told the experienced Unspeakable bad things would happen if he was any closer.

"Speak of this to anyone and I'll gut you like a pig," growled the woman, jabbing a finger angrily at Harry before moving in front of the small piece of metal.

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender.

The female Unspeakable tilted her head to the side and leaned into the charmed metal.

Nothing happened.

"Did you try giving it a little tongue?"

Agent Valkyrie's wand shot out of its holster pointed directly at Harry, a snarl on the woman's lips.

"Whoops, there we go..." quipped Harry, as the wall suddenly decided to shift out of the way, revealing the darkened interior of the infamous Hogwarts Library.

"Well, what do you know..." said Harry as he slipped into the library, "If you ever travel back in time, you should look Salazar up. I think he'd be interested..."

"Keep talking and even your dear ol' dad won't find your corpse..."

Harry snickered. Harry couldn't wait to see the old man's face when he realized his Unspeakables thought Harry was his son.

The male Unspeakable glanced around the restricted section of the library before stopping directly in front of a small hidden carving of a snake, etched directly into an ancient bookcase.

"So..." drawled Harry slowly, turning towards his companion, "This is where your secrecy oaths come into play. Okay? Not a word of this Valerie."

Harry turned back towards the innocent looking carving before hissing in parseltoungue.

The wooden snake perked up in interest before nodding slowly, revealing a small hidden compartment.

"You're a Parselmouth?" asked Valkyrie, her shocked tone evident in her voice.

Reaching into the newly revealed compartment, Harry pulled out an ancient looking dagger, its blade no longer than his outstretched palm, and tucked it into his belt.

"Technically? No. Not anymore," quipped Harry as he tapped twice on the bookshelf, closing the hidden compartment.

"Not anymore?"

"Long story short, had the ability my whole life. Got hit with a nasty piece of dark magic, and poof! No more snake charming... I still remember a few words here and there, but for the most part it's all gone."

The female Unspeakable cocked her head to the side before asking doubtfully, "What kind of dark magic takes away your ability to speak to snakes?"

Harry paused, glancing back at his companion, "The kind that kills you. Guess some magical talents don't follow you from the grave. I'll take being alive over being a Parselmouth any day."

The time traveler ducked back into the hidden passage, motioning for Valkyrie to follow.

"One last stop and we're good Valerie," said Harry as he crept through the dark passages that bisected Hogwarts, "To the seventh floor!"

Valkyrie followed carefully behind Harry as the carefully made their way up through Hogwarts.

"What's so special about that dagger?" asked the woman curiously as the pair crept up an empty stairwell.

"Bit of a dark history," said Harry, patting the hilt of the dagger softly, "Forged from a Basilisk tooth by Salazar Slytherin himself, it was passed down to one of his favorite students after the boy prevented an assassination on the bastard. Long story short, flash forward a few years and Rowena Ravenclaw sent the man to fetch her wayward daughter. Things got ugly, the man killed the girl, killed himself, and thus was born the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron."

Valkyrie stared at the dagger hanging from Harry's hip, "Not a story I've ever heard at Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged, "It's all very tragic. Ancient history of course, but sad nonetheless. What I really needed it for..."

A wooden door blinked into existence before slowly opening, revealing a massive room full of broken trinkets and forgotten valuables.

Harry flipped the dagger in the air, catching it carefully by the grip, "Is the Basilisk venom Salazar's dagger is infused with."

"So what are we looking for?" asked Valkyrie as she stepped deliberately over a fallen cabinet.

"You know the story of Ravenclaw's lost diadem right? Well it's definitely lost..." Harry waved his arm motioning at the room, "Lost somewhere in this bloody room..."

"Why does looking for some old relic dictate a stealth mission? Couldn't we've done this without sneaking into Hogwarts?"

Harry paused, stroking his jaw contemplatively, "Well I guess that would've been easier..."

Valkyrie rolled her eyes, too tired to get mad at her idiot boss.

"Although it would've been awkward when I destroyed a priceless artifact for no apparent reason..."

Valkyrie froze, "What?"

"The diadem. Our mission here is to locate and destroy the artifact at all costs. This is a Level One Priority. We don't leave until the threat is neutralized."

The normal joking tone of Harry was replaced with cold hearted steel, his deadly seriousness leaving no room for argument.

"Understood."

"Speak of the devil..." quipped Harry, pointing at a mangy looking diadem resting on top a broken mannequin.

"That's Ravenclaw's diadem?" asked Valkyrie disbelievingly.

"Yup," replied Harry, hefting his newly acquired basilisk dagger in the air, "So... You want to stab it or should I?"

* * *

"C'mon Prongs, you're going to get us caught!" hissed the cultured voice of Sirius Black, as he shuffled underneath his best friends invisibility cloak.

"Padfoot," yawned James Potter tiredly, as he sleepily followed Sirius, "I'm all for sneaking out at night... But can we not do it at bloody three in the morning? I was having the most fantastic dream..."

"Jeez Prongs, am I interrupting your beauty sleep?" asked Sirius, punching James on the shoulder, "You know it's not going to help right?"

James winced before sucker punching the Black heir in the kidney, "Bastard... So why are we out here again?"

Sirius grinned painfully as he rubbed his side, "So I couldn't sleep yeah, and I thought to myself, 'Sirius, you handsome devil! You have a potions essay due in the morning!' So instead, I decided to work on the Marauder's Map!"

James chuckled lightly at his best friend's thought process.

"But you see, there's something weird going on!" whispered Sirius excitedly, "These two names kept popping up on different places on the map! I thought it was just a weird problem with the charm work, but then I saw them travelling through the Library secret passageways! The one we couldn't figure out how to open!"

James perked up in interest, "So they're using secret passageways we don't know about? Who are they? Students?"

"No idea," grinned Sirius conspiratorially, "They must be using some sort of magic to fool the map. They sound more like code names if you know what I mean..."

James grinned widely, "So who are we looking for?"

"Ares and Valkyrie."

"The Greek god of war and the Norse chooser of the slain?" James gave an excited grin, "Sounds like a mystery to me Mister Padfoot."

Sirius nodded solemnly, "Our honor as Marauders demands action Mister Prongs."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked James, running a hand through his messy hair, "Let's go solve us a mystery.

The two boys crept through the halls underneath the invisibility cloak until they came to a stop on the seventh floor corridor, the last place the mysterious Ares and Valkyrie were spotted on the map.

They settled down to wait

James had just started to get bored when a ear shattering explosion filled the previously empty corridor. The Potter heir scrambled backwards dragging Sirius by the collar as a door burst open and an unearthly roar filled the hallway.

A body came flying out of the newly appeared door and bounced off the castle wall, where it came to a rest moaning in pain.

"Oww. That fucking hurt," growled the cloaked figure, before dragging itself to its feet. The figure rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck, "I knew I should've just used Fiendfyre..."

James and Sirius stared in shock as a massive arm made up of broken furniture and trash shot out of the open door and grabbed the cloaked figure by the torso.

"Ahh bugger me."

The arm pulled back violently, bringing the cloaked figure flying back into the open doorway.

James looked at Sirius with wide eyes before creeping towards the open door.

The rumbling sounds of explosions and a woman cursing echoed out of the previously hidden room.

Sirius grabbed his best friend by the arm and dragged him back, narrowly avoiding the cabinet that came flying out of the room. The two boys froze at the sight before them.

A massive titan-like behemoth made up of broken furniture and debris was attempting to smash two cloaked figures, one of which was wielding a burning flame whip, while the other rained explosive curses on the creature.

James locked eyes with Sirius.

"Dumbledore?"

"You just read my mind mate."

The boys flinched as another explosion rocked the area.

"Go for its jugular Valerie!"

"It doesn't have a throat you idiot!"

"Hit it in its filing cabinet then!"

"I am never working with you again!"

"File it with HR! In the meantime, help me kill this blasted thing!"

James looked at Sirius again.

"Run?"

"Way ahead of you mate.

* * *

AN: And that's a wrap. Less action in this one than normal and a bit more setup. Two Lord Potter's, a dirty auror, the lovely Ms. Bones, and a mission to destroy one of Voldemort's horcruxes. I particularly enjoyed writing Charlus Potter and developing a backstory for "The Great War" aka the magical worlds part in WWII.

We also get an insight into Amelia's thoughts on our cocky hero and the foundations for my auror corps arc has been laid out.

And finally we get a seek and destroy op with Harry and Valkyrie into Hogwarts. Surprisingly, a decent amount of you have guessed Valkyrie's identity and I can tell you now, I'm excited for her reveal. Won't be for a while though.

The fight with the furniture monster was supposed to be a part of this chapter, but in the interest of getting this chapter out before I leave, you'll have to wait until next time.

I just wanted to express my disbelief real quick, over five hundred followers and sixty something reviews for the second chapter. You guys are brilliant. I never expected such an awesome response. So thank you.

Also. Precioussann. You're my favorite. You dirty chair fighter you... :P

A lot of you seemed pretty amazed that I write this entirely on my phone. It's not as crazy as you would think, I'm a fast texter and I use the Google Doc app for android, so my work is always saved. My phone's always on me, so when I get a burst of inspiration I just pull it out and write. It's more convenient than anything, I lead a pretty active lifestyle.

Like always, feel free to leave your thoughts on the story, I'm always open to new ideas and criticisms. Tell me what you liked, what you didn't, and what you want to see more of. You probably won't see another chapter for a month or two so I hope you guys won't mind waiting for me... :P

Until next time.

Edited 11Oct2015


	4. Chapter 4

Harry gave his companion a cheeky grin as he shifted gears in the old muggle truck they were riding in. The stench of gasoline and old cigarettes permeated the rusty vehicle, while empty beer bottles clanked loudly as they rolled across the floor, "How you feeling mate?"

His companion gave Harry a half hearted glare as the youngest male Weasley gripped the side of the truck with a deathgrip.

The twenty five year old former Auror Captain looked pale as the pair drove across the mountainous terrain, the telltale signs of motion sickness obvious in the man's glassy eyes and sick expression.

"Why the bloody hell are we riding in this death trap rather than fucking apparating to the objective?" moaned Ron Weasley, his hand held tight across his stomach.

Harry let out a brief chuckle, before reaching across and pounding his best friend's chest good naturedly, "This isn't the Auror Corps mate, unlike you amateurs, we try to blend in to our environment... If you'd like, I can conjure up a sign to put up on the front."

Harry lifted his hands off the wheel and dramatically spread them as if he was painting a picture, "Wizard assassins extraordinaire, here to wreck your day and burn your house to the ground! Now hiring, enquire within."

Ron groaned tiredly, as the former auror massaged his temples gently, lines of sweat streaking down the dirt and grime caked across his face. "Whatever happened to the whiny effing midget I knew back at Hogwarts? At least then I didn't have to deal with this kind of abuse... Sarcastic arsehole."

Harry rolled his eyes as the pair slowly rolled up to the small village where their target was holed up in. The midsummer sun baked the earth as the two carefully drove through the crowded and busy market.

Bright colors and exotic smells surrounded the two as a throng of locals went about their daily business, their eyes sliding past the haggard looking truck, almost as if it wasn't there.

"You getting anything mate?" asked Harry as he drove the truck at a snail's pace through the town.

Ron shook his head minutely in negative, as he quietly chanted a complex spell under his breath, his mutterings an odd combination of Gaelic and Latin.

Harry nodded and discretely tabbed his left earlobe, activating the communication charm layered onto the small earring piercing his ear.

"Duchess this is Loki."

The Unspeakable didn't have to wait long for the aristocratic voice of Duchess to respond.

"Loki this is Duchess, what do you need darling?" came the sultry voice of the female member of Sigma Squad quietly in his ear.

"Head in the game Duchess, we're passing checkpoint two now, you still got eyes on the HVT?"

"Roger that," acknowledged the female Unspeakable, before a second voice interrupted the transmission, "Loki this is Falcon, be advised you have a platoon sized element of local militia moving east to west into the AO. Looks like they got a pair of mounted .50 calibre machine guns. Russian DShK's by the looks of it, how copy?"

Harry grimaced as he turned the truck into an alleyway only a block down from the target building. "Good copy Falcon, any sign of magicals?"

"Negative Loki, I'll keep an eye out, over."

"Roger that Falcon, Loki out," hissed Harry quietly as he parked the truck in the back of some local's yard. Harry glanced at Ron and gave his fellow comrade a terse nod before they covered themselves in a myriad of disillusionment and notice-me-not charms.

"You ready mate?" asked Harry as he finished layering the charms on his person.

Ron narrowed his eyes and put his fist out to his brother in all but blood.

Harry grinned savagely as he bumped fists with the redhead, "Let's go kill this wanker."

The two Unspeakables moved silently and quickly towards the target building. Their target had apparently been hiding out in this small village for months. With the muggle war raging on, it was obvious he thought he could disappear in the chaos.

He thought wrong.

The target building was a small rundown affair. Shack would've been a better description of the tiny, unassuming residence. Most people wouldn't have even spared it a second glance. But most of the people in the country were muggles. And Sigma Squad was most assuredly not.

The subtle wards and magic that encompassed the house made it nearly impossible for anyone to find, let alone break into without the owner's knowledge.

Too bad Sigma's final member and resident curse breaker was more than up for the job.

"Loki, Rookie," acknowledged the fifth and last member of Sigma as he and Duchess appeared seemingly from nowhere in front of the two Unspeakables.

Ron nonchalantly flipped his middle finger at the new arrivals as he moved into position next to the Unspeakables. Harry nodded at the arrival of Agent Templar and the voluptuous Duchess, before motioning at the invisible wards before them and pointing at his watch.

"We got a two minute window before the wards reset boss," hissed the tall Unspeakable, callsign Templar, as he fingered his wand in anticipation.

Harry nodded carefully, "Breach on my mark."

The four Unspeakables crouched down, hidden, as Harry silently counted down from three.

"Breach."

The wards surrounding the target building flickered briefly into existence before disappearing.

Before the wards could even finish flashing, the Unspeakables were already in motion. Moving with the speed and grace of practiced professionals, the four rapidly made their way to just outside the target building's door. Stacking up on the door, Templar moved out out of formation and quickly scanned the door for any hidden booby traps or trip wires. Nodding his approval, Templar moved to the opposite side and prepared to breach.

The thunderous kick that the lanky Unspeakable unleashed would have most assuredly announced their presence to the village at large if it hadn't been for the silencing wards placed around the property. Regardless, for the sole inhabitant of the house, it seemed as if the world had suddenly exploded.

A bone breaking curse leapt from Harry's wand and crashed into their target's chest as they barreled their way into the small shack. A quick incarcerous charm saw their target rapidly and painfully tied up on the dusty floor.

"Clear right!"

"Clear left!"

"Room clear!

Cold rage filled Harry's vision as he stalked across the room and wrenched the injured man to his feet, kicking his wand away from his person.

"Walden Macnair, for your crimes against the wizarding and muggle world's and the murder of Hermione Granger-Weasley, you have been sentenced to death," Harry snarled at the whimpering former Death Eater, the stench of blood and urine covering the man, "Agent Váli, carry out his punishment."

Former Auror Captain Ron Weasley growled audibly as he moved in front of his wife's murderer, "With pleasure."

Ron smiled darkly as he pulled out a wicked looking knife from his robes, "I've been waiting a long time for this you fucking bastard…"

Harry watched stoically as his long time best friend kneeled next to the crying Death Eater and whispered something softly in the man's ear before plunging the blade deep into Macnair's chest.

The redhead was as still as a statue as he stared into the Death Eater's eyes and watched as the man slowly suffocated to death on his own blood.

"It's done."

Harry nodded as he motioned at Templar who was guarding the door, "Let's move out Sigma-"

An earsplitting explosion and a blinding light cut off the veteran Unspeakable suddenly.

Harry roared in agony as he felt his body rise into the air and crash through the thin walls of the rundown shack.

"Death curse!" shouted one of the members of Sigma as they dragged Harry ungracefully across the earth away from the burning building.

"-incoming forces on your location-"

"-vada kedavra!"

"-the Captain's down! Duchess get over-"

"-pparation wards are up! We got hostile magicals!"

"-rap! It's a fucking trap!"

Harry moaned as the world slowly spun in slow motion, his vision in his right eye obscured by the red tinge of blood as bullets and spells flew across the air in deadly fashion.

A jolt of power lurched into his injured body and Harry felt the world suddenly roar back into action.

"Boss, I healed your concussion!" shouted the agonized voice of Duchess as she weaved her wand across Harry's body, "We need to move sir!"

Harry grimaced painfully as he wandlessly summoned his wand to his hand. The pops of small arms fire mixed with the roar of a .50 calibre machine gun as the local forces of the area converged on their location.

"Who's still up?" shouted Harry painfully as he whipped his injured body up from behind his crumbling cover and launched a silent Bombarda at one of the machine gun mounted vehicles. Ducking back behind the relative safety of the wall, the resulting explosion caused a brief pause in gunfire, before it suddenly and fiercely intensified.

Glancing across his surroundings, Harry's eyes widened as he saw Templar cursing violently as he let loose a flurry of offensive spells towards the enemy, his left arm missing from the elbow down.

"Váli's dead sir…"

Harry felt his world suddenly lurch to a sudden stop for the second time that day.

Ron…

The world turned red.

Harry roared.

* * *

"Every goddamn time!" groaned Harry as he ducked under a vicious swing from the horcrux golem, its furniture arm smashing through a series of old forgotten mirrors sending shattered glass everywhere.

"What the hell are you moaning about over there?" came the mocking question of Agent Valkyrie as she gracefully spun around the small projectiles being kicked around by the beast, while simultaneously casting a series of bombardment charms, sending decent chunks of the amalgamation of furniture crashing to the ground.

"I mean all this!" complained the Unspeakable as he quickly transfigured the broken pieces of the creature into a series of massive chains, the magical constructs rapidly wrapping around the golem in an attempt to bring it to the ground.

"Every bloody time I go out, somebody or something wants my head on a platter," bemoaned Harry, "If it's not Death Eaters it's Unspeakables. If it's not a damned dark lord it's a freaking furniture monster. I swear to Merlin if I see my ex-wife I'm going to off myself! Save her the effing trouble!"

Valkyrie paused mid-battle and stared at the Unspeakable incredulously, "Someone was married to _your_ annoying ass?"

"Look out!" cursed Harry loudly, his wand slashing across his body.

Valkyrie glanced back up at the towering creature just in time to see a massive fist come hurtling towards her.

The female Unspeakable felt a sharp tug on her navel, the signature feeling of a summoning charm, as it sent her tumbling backwards. The room seemed to move in slow motion for the witch as the beast's arm flew past her face by mere inches.

Valkyrie cried out in pain as she slammed directly into her male counterpart, sending the two crashing across the floor.

"Fuck me sideways!" growled Harry as he rolled to his feet, his right arm holding his left shoulder gingerly, "Bloody dislocated my shoulder."

Harry hissed in pain as he jammed his arm in between two broken cabinets and violently wrenched his arm back into place.

"Fucking fuck, fuck, **fuck**!" swore Harry profusely as his good arm fumbled with his wand.

The male Unspeakable sighed with relief as he cast a minor numbing charm, the blinding pain quickly transitioning into a dull throb.

Harry glared half heartedly at his female companion, "Head in the game Valkyrie."

"Forgot you were still a bloody rookie..." muttered the time traveler as he dodged out of the way of wayward swing from the furniture titan.

Valkyrie said nothing in reply, her heart hammering in her chest at her near death experience. If Harry hadn't summoned her back in time, she would have been nothing more than a bloody smear across the floor.

"You know what? We don't have time for this..." growled Harry as he barely ducked under a flying couch.

Valkyrie's eyes snapped open in shock as she felt magical energy start to pour off her part-time teammate in crushing waves.

Glancing over at her partner, Valkyrie instantly recognized the malevolent purple and black flames that burst out of the other Unspeakable's wand.

Fiendfyre.

The rookie Unspeakable could only watch in awe as the ghostly flames wrapped around her partner like a vengeful beast. The incredible heat of the cursed fire seemingly harmless to the male wizard.

A savage grin graced the wizard's lips as his eyes flashed an ominous yellow. The intoxicating feel of dark magic permeated the very air.

Valkyrie watched silently as Harry raised a lone arm and pointed it in the direction of the massive creature.

The flames encompassing the Unspeakable burst forth violently, the sinister flames seamlessly transforming into an army of dark creatures. A black shimmering mass of dragons, snakes, and all manners of beasts raced across the floor, setting everything they touched ablaze.

A deafening explosion of power shattered the silence as the two forces of dark magic clashed in unholy combat.

The massive beast that had so far been unaffected by her strongest attacks suddenly collapsed to one knee, one of its massive arms waving futilely at the blackened flames.

Harry took another step forward, the suffocating weight of his magical power crashed down on the female Unspeakable, its might constricting her chest so tightly she could barely breathe.

The world _burned_.

It was the most beautiful thing Valkyrie had ever seen.

Harry flashed a blood stained grin as the Horcrux monster struggled and failed to rise back to its feet as the ethereal flames slowly burned it to ash.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!"

The unearthly primal howl of the dying creature shook the entire Room of Requirement suddenly and violently as the Horcrux monster finally succumbed to the black flames.

The stench of dark magic and burning wood accompanied the passing of the monstrous beast, while the hissing sounds of smoldering furniture and collapsing appliances cut through the immediate silence after the creature's piercing death cry.

The time traveler snarled angrily as the remnants of the oily black flames converged in front of the wizard and transformed into the burning form of a shimmering black knight. The manifestation of Fiendfyre towered nearly a meter over the Unspeakable and seemed to gaze contemplatively into Harry's eyes.

Valkyrie watched in awe as her companion stared back into the burning orbs of the fiery demon before him.

The female Unspeakable let loose a shuddering gasp she hadn't realized she'd been holding in, as the embodiment of the darkest of magicks nodded once, seemingly in acceptance, and dispersed into nothingness.

Harry stood still for a moment before collapsing to his knees.

"Ahhh damn…" coughed the Unspeakable, as blood and spittle dribbled from his lips. His eyes slowly shifted from its sickly yellow hue back into its regular emerald green state, "Well that was new..."

"Wh-wha-what the hell was that?" groaned Valkyrie, her chest heaving as she took in deep gasping breaths. The sudden lack of massive magical power pressing down on her allowed her to finally breathe normally again.

Harry winced, "No idea... Fiendfyre isn't supposed to do that…"

Valkyrie stared at her companion incredulously, "Yeah, no shit."

She'd never heard of the infamous black magic forming into anything remotely similar to that blackened demon she saw. A horde of magical monsters and beasts yes. A lone Black Knight, forged from the depths of hellfire? Never.

The male Unspeakable rose carefully from his kneeling position, the signature shakes of magical exhaustion marring his normally graceful movements.

"We need to leave. Now."

Valkyrie nodded in agreement.

The female Unspeakable didn't know how or why there was such potent dark magic hidden in the depths of the Hogwarts castle, or better yet, how the hell her companion knew it was there... But she was determined to get to the bottom of it. Agent Ares. The God of War.

How appropriate.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" asked the cold voice of the Immortal Alchemist Nicholas Flamel, his ancient visage seemingly cut from stone.

Harry suppressed a flinch at the calm, collected voice of the Head Unspeakable.

"There was a…" Harry paused, searching for the right word,"...complication."

Nicholas glared daggers at the time traveler's answer, a sneer flickering briefly across the Immortal's face.

"What sort of 'complication' merits the use of Fiendfyre in a castle full of **schoolchildren?** " snarled the Head Unspeakable savagely.

Harry returned the gaze of his former/future mentor carefully.

"Voldemort has stumbled upon immortality. As he is now. He cannot be killed. His soul has been torn to pieces. "

Nicholas's eyes narrowed into slits, before widening suddenly in realization, "A Horcrux..."

Harry shook his head in the negative, as the temperature in the office seemed to drop, "Horcruxes..."

The time traveler emphasized the plural version of the dreaded dark magic, his voice heavy with the revelation.

Nicholas let loose a deep sigh, his face scrunched up in consternation, "It's the Immortal War all over again..."

Harry raised an interested brow, "Immortal War?"

Nicholas shook his head and waved a dismissive hand at the young Unspeakable, "Ancient history. A minor skirmish between myself and a pair of seemingly immortal Dark Lords. They were of minor talent, but their immortality was a source of extreme annoyance."

The ancient wizard rose from behind his desk and started to pace behind it slowly.

"If Voldemort has discovered a method of immortality, then this so called Wizarding War has just escalated in its priority," mused the Head Unspeakable, "I had intended to leave the task to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but considering the circumstances..."

Harry nodded his agreement, "I've been working with one of the Department's Aurors, there's no way they can handle Voldemort and his followers. From what I can remember, most of the DMLE are corrupt at best, or Death Eaters at worst."

Nicholas gazed contemplatively at the time traveler, "Do you have a plan?"

The younger Unspeakable nodded, "I've been in contact with a trustworthy Auror. We've been working on cleaning out the Department, but there's only the two of us."

The Immortal Alchemist hummed thoughtfully, "Very well. The Department of Mysteries is officially at war with the self proclaimed Lord Voldemort and his followers. Si vis pacem, para bellum."

"I'm assigning you to a squad. Despite your rank, I can't afford to have what basically amounts to a rogue agent running amok without adult supervision," continued Nicholas, stroking his beard carefully, " Sigma squad should work nicely…"

Harry winced, " Sigma?"

Nicholas raised a cultured brow, "Is there a problem? Considering your friendly relationship with Agent Valkyrie, I had assumed you would be pleased with the arrangement."

The time traveler shook his head in the negative, "No, there's no problem Boss."

Harry glanced away from the immortal, his eyes glazing over with memories of future's past, "Just some bad memories associated with being a member of Sigma Squad. It won't affect my performance."

The Head Unspeakable nodded once, letting the subject drop, "I'll brief Sigma on your new assignment tonight. Report to the War Room tomorrow morning at 0700 for your inprocessing. Understood."

Harry straightened slightly, "Yes Sir.

"Good," nodded the ancient alchemist, waving his hands in a clear dismissal.

The time traveler had barely turned around to leave before Nicholas called out to him.

"One more thing…"

Harry cocked his head to the side curiously, "Yeah Boss?"

The stormy gray eyes of the immortal hardened as they pierced Harry's own.

"I understand there were extenuating circumstances surrounding your use of Hellfire on your little jaunt to Hogwarts. However…" paused Nicholas, his magic flaring in its intensity, "Cross the line. And we will have a reckoning. Am I clear?"

The air crackled with power as the two wizards locked eyes.

"Crystal."

* * *

Harry groaned as his perimeter wards jolted him awake from his spot at the war room table.

After dealing with Voldemort's horcrux last night, Harry figured he'd might as well crash at the Department of Mysteries.

Harry tiredly cast a quick scourgify on the inside of his mouth, as a group of Unspeakables filed into the room.

Sigma Squad, 1976.

Harry didn't know anything about the wizards and witches who preceded his tenure in Sigma.

And considering the current status of his own squad in 2006. He wasn't surprised.

Váli and Falcon were KIA. Templar was medically retired. Hell, he'd been on injured reserve for the past year after he failed the yearly psych eval. Only Duchess remained on active duty, and last he heard, she was talking retirement.

For any of the 1976 crew to still be active Unspeakable Field Operatives thirty years later was as likely as a Chudley Cannons championship run.

Or Vernon Dursley losing weight.

"Welcome to Sigma," came the easy drawl of the hooded Unspeakable in front of him, "My callsign is Atlas and I'm the Captain of our little squad. Sigma squad's primary mission is covert capture and interrogation. Here. Let me introduce you to the team."

Harry leaned tiredly up against the wall as his new squad leader started his introductions. Back in the future, when he himself had been the Captain of Sigma, he had welcomed his rookie members with a no holds barred duel to get a feel for their capabilities. Not only did it give him a chance to assess their respective strengths and weaknesses, but it also established him as the top of the food train. Couldn't let those rookies get cocky now could he?

Needless to say, after destroying one of Voldemort's Horcruxes last night and getting thrown around like a ragdoll, he was glad Atlas was a bit more relaxed in his approach.

Atlas motioned towards the rest of the Unspeakables arranged throughout the room, "The one reading the Daily Prophet is Loki, he's our resident curse breaker. Best in the business, he hasn't let us down yet. You might remember him as the one you punched in the face."

Harry shrugged apologetically at the other Unspeakable, as he assessed the Agent who held the name Loki before him. He was tall and lanky fellow, while his face, like the rest of Sigma, was obscured by the hidden enchantments signature to the Department of Mysteries.

There weren't many Unspeakables before him that were famous enough to have their callsign retired. And it seemed the previous Loki was no exception. The most recent callsign to be retired that Harry could think of was "The Count," and the Unspeakable in question disappeared years ago, shortly after the end of the World War II.

"Next up is Archer, he's our long range specialist," continued Atlas, nodding at the other Unspeakable, an average sized male who clung to the shadows.

"You of course, are familiar with our resident rookie, Miss Valkyrie."

Harry grinned at the female Unspeakable, her death glare palpable through her cloak.

"And finally, our indispensable siege wizard, Agent Castle."

Harry cast an impressed glance at the other wizard. Not many had the physical strength and casting speed required to be a siege wizard.

Castle gave Harry a small, respectful nod, as he twirled his wand carelessly between his fingers. The man's sleeves were torn off at the shoulder revealing a set of muscled arms.

Ahh. Castle was the one who sucker punched him in the chest. No wonder the man cracked some of his ribs. The man looked more like a muggle bodybuilder than a Unspeakable agent.

"Sigma," continued Atlas, "This is Agent Ares. He'll be attached to us for the time being. Ares, feel free to introduce yourself."

Harry pushed himself off his spot on the wall and shrugged, "Not much to tell really. I've been on injured reserve for the past year. Prior to that is classified."

The time traveler ignored the incredulous snort coming from from Valkyrie, "I specialize in counterinsurgency operations and target elimination. For the most part, I'll primarily be an extra wand in your pocket. Just another member of the squad."

Harry paused, before looking directly at Captain Atlas, "However; I do have the authority to take command of Sigma as my mission dictates. I trust that won't be a problem?"

Atlas nodded his acceptance.

"Are you joking Captain?" came the incredulous question from Loki, his tone hostile, "We just ran a snatch and grab op on this guy a few weeks back. And now we're just going to let him take over the squad?"

Atlas raised a hand, silencing the other Unspeakable, "Easy Loki. Ares is still one of us, despite all the cloak and dagger. The Dragon vouched for him personally."

Loki scoffed but didn't say anymore.

They didn't call Nicholas Flamel the Dragon for no reason.

Atlas waved a hand at Harry nonchalantly, "Now, I understand we've had our little fight a few weeks back…"

Harry groaned inwardly. He knew what was coming.

"But we have a tradition here in Sigma," continued Atlas, "Everybody fights. Nobody quits."

Harry's wand shot out of its holster as the rest of Sigma squad started to circle around him predatorily.

"I believe you owe us a rematch Agent Ares…"

The time traveler couldn't help but grin madly, "You ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

Atlas cocked his head to the side curiously.

Harry shrugged, "Ehh. Give it a decade."

Sigma attacked.

* * *

The self proclaimed Lord Voldemort and last Heir of Slytherin relaxed in his chair as he sipped a glass of 1945 Château Margaux.

The Dark Lord sighed in contentment. Dark red. Mint and spice on the nose. Juicy, fleshy and chewy in the mouth. Oily with marvellous depth of complexity, brilliant structure and definition, great power and flavour notes of coffee, cappucino and vanilla.

Simply fantastic.

"My Lord?"

Voldemort turned towards the cultured voice beside him.

"Ahhh Abraxas Malfoy, my old friend," drawled Lord Voldemort as he let loose a charming smile, "Come, come. Sit. What is it you need of me?"

The Malfoy Head nodded respectfully as he took a seat across from the Dark Lord.

"I come bearing information my Lord, about that Unspeakable you fought in Diagon Alley," continued Abraxas, running a hand through his family's infamous platinum blonde hair.

"Ahh. Him," replied Voldemort, as he took another long sip from his glass, "Tell me old friend. What have you discovered?"

"Not much," said Abraxus as he pulled out a file from the depths of his robes, "Just a codename and a lot of black ink. You said to inform you if I discovered anything, no matter how small."

"Yes. Indeed. Continue."

"Apparently he goes by the callsign Ares."

"The Greek God of War? Interesting."

"That's not the only interesting thing my Lord," continued Malfoy, "My source in the Department of Mysteries was able to get a complete copy of this Agent Ares's file."

The distinguished blond motioned towards the empty file spread out on the expensive table between them.

"Other files we've been able to procure have been lot more revealing. Names are blacked out of course, but there are records, documentation. Medical paperwork, training certification's. There's always a paper trail," drawled Malfoy, "But Ares. His is empty."

Voldemort hummed thoughtfully as he took another sip of wine, "Your contact in the Ministry. Is he one of mine."

Abraxas Malfoy shook his head in the negative.

"No, my Lord," said Malfoy, "He is one of my… projects."

"Ahhh. Blackmail."

"Yes my Lord. He is a halfblood masquerading as one of the pureblood," explained Malfoy, "It would be quite the scandal if his wife's family were to find out. Why, they might just take out their anger on his lovely daughter."

The Dark Lord nodded in understanding, "Ahhh. Then I shall place my trust in your skilled hands. Sometimes if you cannot obtain their loyalty, it must be bought. Excellent work my friend."

"Thank you my Lord, I am sorry I couldn't find out more."

"Nonsense. You've always been my most reliable friend," smiled Voldemort, "How is your son? Has he returned from his travels abroad?"

Abraxas gave a proud smile, "Indeed, he should be returning home just in time for his twenty second birthday. Did you know he took first place in the 1975 Summer European Dueling Circuit? He is quite the skilled dueler."

Voldemort nodded appreciatively, "I'm quite excited to make his acquaintance."

"As is he. He seems quite receptive to our beliefs. My Lord. I believe he will become a great asset to our cause in the near future."

"With such a glowing recommendation, how could I deny him a place in my inner circle?"

Abrax smiled, "Thank you my Lord."

Voldemort tipped his glass towards his companion, "Now. On to our next topic of discussion."

"Hogsmeade. How goes our plans to burn it to the ground?"

* * *

AN: I'm sorry. These last few months… Let's just say I'd rather do a year or two in Iraq than repeat these past months. Death, injuries, debt. Life's been shitty.

But enough about that. When I left WTT back in May, I was sitting around a hundred reviews. You guys have left me two hundred and seventy reviews in the mean time. I'm less than thirty reviews to four hundred. That's insane. Your feedback has been amazing and I feel like an ass for leaving you guys hanging for so long. Hell, two of my favorite authors, Shezza88 and DobbyElfLord have this on their favorite lists.

I have a lot to live up to.

In this chapter, we start to delve into the history of Harry Potter the Unspeakable and how his story diverts from canon. I've pretty much established that this Harry Potter is the same from the books all the way up until the epilogue. But now we get a glimpse into past. Or future.

There's also hints of how Harry got sent to the past in this chapter, but I doubt anyone will catch on just yet.

We also get introduced to Sigma Squad, 1976. Atlas, Loki, Archer, Valkyrie, and Castle. Fun fact, one of the squad has already been mentioned, by name, in the previous chapters. All of these are of course, named canon characters, so have fun guessing who they are. I'm excited to start running missions with Sigma '76.

Finally, we have Lord Voldemort. He is definitely… Different… Than how most people portray him. Tom Riddle was characterized as a handsome and charismatic young man. A natural born leader.

I don't think Voldemort became the insane megalomaniac until after he spent over a decade as a bodiless wraith.

You may not agree with how I portray him, but I feel like a charismatic murderer with class will be a lot more fun.

Not as much humor in this one and a bigger focus on Harry, but you'll definitely see Amy and the rest of the Marauders, plus Lily, next chapter.

I hope you guys have enjoyed, I wouldn't expect weekly updates, but there won't be another six month hiatus, I promise.

-Private Jenkins

*Credit goes to Joe Belmaati's April 17, 2004 review of the 1945 Château Margaux for Voldemort's wine description. I'm a cheap beer and whiskey kinda guy. But that guys review was on point. All credit goes to him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey Prongs?"

"Yes Padfoot?"

"I'm beginning to think our reputation is getting out of hand."

Sirius nodded, running a hand through his shaggy locks, "I have to agree Mr. Padfoot. Perhaps we should cut back on the pranks?"

The two boys stopped scrubbing the castle floor and locked eyes.

Sirius furrowed his brows in thought.

"We do have our OWL exams this year…"

James stroked his nonexistent beard carefully, "We wouldn't have nearly as many detentions… "

The estranged Black heir continued, starting to wave his hands around excitedly, "We wouldn't have to be Hogwarts' official part time janitors!"

"We could focus on our education!"

"We won't have to bribe Moony with steak anymore!"

"Lily will finally agree to go on a date with me!"

"People would believe us when we tell them about the Dreaded Furniture Monster of Hogwarts and our brave, mysterious heroes who defended us!"

Remus Lupin, Hogwarts' resident werewolf, glared at the two idiots beside him.

"Somehow, I just can't see you idiots cleaning up your act…" deadpanned the werewolf as he dipped his mop into a soapy bucket, "And for the record. I hate you both. How did I get detention? I was asleep!"

James gave his friend an incredulous look, "Uhhh. Because you're a Musketeer?"

"Marauder! We're the Marauders!" cried out Sirius indignantly, "I won that bet fair and square second year!"

"I refuse to acknowledge the legitimacy of that win," said James snootily, his nose raised in the air, "You cheated."

Remus massaged his temples in exasperation, his eyes tightly shut, "How do you cheat at Rock, Paper, Scissors?"

James glared at Sirius.

"Time travel."

"Time travel?"

"Time travel."

"You're an idiot."

"Makes sense to me."

The three boys turned to look at the final member of their quartet.

"Thanks Peter. I knew I could always count on you," said James sagely.

Sirius cocked his head to the side in thought, "That's actually a brilliant idea…"

"See Moony," grinned James, "We outnumber you two to one."

Remus groaned, "Three to one."

"Exactly."

The werewolf growled in exasperation as he levitated the dirty mop bucket and dumped its contents on the Potter heir.

"Hey!"

"As entertaining as this conversation has been boys, I do believe your punishment was to clean the halls, _not_ to make it dirtier…"

The four boy jolted at the wizened old voice of their Headmaster.

"Headmaster?" came the questioning response from the Potter heir. He did a double take, "Dad? What are you doing here?"

Charlus Potter smiled softly, "Glad to see you've been staying out of trouble James."

James grinned guilty as dirty water dripped off his robes, pooling on the partially cleaned floor.

Albus Dumbledore smiled at the teenaged boys, "Lord Potter has some family matters to address with you Mr. Potter. And while I am forced to cut your punishment short, I trust you boys have learned your lesson?"

"Yes Headmaster," droned the four boys together.

"Very well than," acknowledged the old man as he swept his wand lazily across the hallway, cleaning the dirt and grime of the floors, while simultaneously drying off James's robes.

"Hey I'm dry again! Thanks Headmaster!"

"Not a problem my boy. Now, if you would please," smiled Dumbledore, motioning towards the Potter Patriarch.

James shrugged nonchalantly as he glanced back towards his friends, "I'll see you guys back at the tower?"

Sirius grinned, "Have fun mate. Thanks Mr. Potter for the timely intervention!"

Albus Dumbledore smiled benevolently, "Come along boys, let's give the Potter's their space. Why, this is an excellent opportunity for a history lesson."

Charlus and James Potter watched as the wizened old Headmaster led the rest of the Marauders away.

"-called the Salem Gibralter and was created in 1806. It eventually evolved into the lemon drop we enjoy today after a wizard named-"

James ran a hand through his messy locks as he turned towards his father, "Dad? So why are you here?"

Charlus Potter shook his head in the negative, "Not here. Follow me."

The Potter heir crinkled his eyes in confusion as he followed his father into a nearby empty classroom. Charlus pulled out his wand from his robes and waved it deliberately.

A pulse of magical power emanated from the wand, settling around the room. James shivered as the magic passed through his body, his hairs rising on end.

Charlus sighed as he pulled up an empty chair and sank into it.

"Dad? What's this all about?"

"James…" started Charlus, taking off his wire rim glasses and cleaning them on his robes, "Did you hear about the attack in Diagon Alley last week?"

The Potter heir nodded carefully, "Umm. Yes? It was all over the papers. Some sort of Ministry official ran them off? I wasn't paying too much attention…"

Charlus nodded, "The attack is the reason why I'm here. You're Mother and I were there."

James shot up to his feet, "You were there during the attack?! Where's mother? Merlin! Is mum okay?"

Lord Potter raised his hand, "Peace child. You're Mother is fine. A little shaken, but otherwise she'll be alright."

"Then…"

"The reason I'm here is due to the man who saved your mother and I. An Unspeakable."

James cocked his head to the side in curiosity, "Unspeakable? Aren't they supposed to be super secret researchers or something?"

Charlus paused, and stared deliberately at his only child, "James. This is not information I give out lightly. I trust you have kept up with your occlumency training?"

James nodded.

The Potter patriarch locked eyes with his son, a light mental touch brushing across James's mind, before nodding his approval, "Good. You have been practicing… Let us begin. There are two types of Unspeakables. The Research and Development Department is what most wizards and witches are familiar with. The study of arcane magicks and mysteries. Love. Time. Death. Immortality."

"And the second type?"

"Field Operatives. They are… similar… to Aurors. Highly trained, very dangerous. They specialize in cloak and dagger operations, and are notorious for their secrecy."

James scrunched his face up in thought, "If they're so good, why haven't they stopped the Dark Lord? Shouldn't they be helping?"

Charlus shook his head, "Unspeakables deal with international and foreign disputes. They prefer to leave domestic matters to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The only reason they would join a domestic conflict is by order of their Head Unspeakable."

"How do you know all of this Father?" asked James curiously.

The elder Potter's eyes grew distant, as if he was staring into the past itself.

"That is a tale for another time son," deflected Charlus, refocusing his gaze onto his only child, "But as Headmaster Dumbledore said, there is a family matter that we must discuss. My rescue ties directly into this."

James nodded, not quite understanding, but listening intently regardless.

"The House of Potter's future no longer rests solely upon your shoulders my son. All your life, we have believed our family to be last surviving members of the House. My brother Fleamont and his family. Killed in the Great War. Cousin Hardwin, taken by disease. Your Great Uncle Ralston, presumed dead after he went missing on his failed Atlantis Expedition. Our family, the last known legacy of the Peverell line, has dwindled in size until we believed we were the last remnants of our House."

Charlus's steely gray eyes locked with his son's hazel.

"This man, the one who saved my life…" continued Charlus, his eyes gleaming, "He is a Potter. The blood of Ignotus Peverell courses through his veins. He is of the Family."

James gaped at his father, his mouth hanging open in shock at the revelation, "W-what? How is that even possible? The Family is dead! How do you know this isn't some sort of imposter?"

Charlus shook his head, "There is no doubt. He is of our blood. When I offered him the Potter ring of Alliance, it transformed into the Potter Family Ring. He is without a doubt a Potter."

James sucked in a deep breath, the fifteen year old reeling at the discovery. Family? An actual living member of the Potter line and not just a distant cousin bearing a different name? "So who is he father?

"We don't know," replied Charlus carefully, leaving out mention that there was now _two_ Lord Potter's, "When your mother and I checked the Family Registry at Gringotts, it did not leave a name. Whatever magic the Department of Mysteries uses to hide their Unspeakables is strong enough to fool even goblin blood magic. Rather than revealing the identity of our long lost family member, it merely left his callsign at the Department. Ares. The God of War."

The younger Potter's eyes shot open in realisation, "Ares?"

James fumbled through his pockets, before pulling out a roll of yellowed parchment.

"Dad, do you remember how me and my friends have been trying to charm a map of Hogwarts?"

Charlus nodded slowly.

James continued animatedly, "That's the reason I was serving detention! Sirius was working on some of the charm work last night when he saw something weird! Apparently there were some odd names traveling throughout the castle, Valkyrie and Ares! We decided to investigate when we saw them fighting some sort of Furniture Golem on the seventh floor. We tried to tell the Headmaster, but Professor McGonagall told us off for telling fantastical stories and assigned us detention!"

Lord Charlus Potter's eyes narrowed in thought, "These people you speak of... Did they wear cloaks of silver?"

James nodded affirmative.

Charlus leaned forward, "Tell me _everything_ …"

* * *

Harry sat awkwardly next to the large Unspeakable beside him, the briefing room empty save for the two of them.

"Soooooo…" drawled Harry slowly, "You're my new partner yeah? Castle was it?"

The bulky Unspeakable nodded wordlessly, his attention focused on the small book nestled carefully in his oversized hands.

"Huh. Not much of a talker are you?"

The Unspeakable put down his book and glanced over at Harry, his face concealed by his hood.

Harry raised his hands in surrender as he practically felt the judgmental gaze of his companion.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I'll let you read in peace…"

The time traveler leaned back into his chair and gazed up at the ceiling in boredom. Hurry up and wait. The bane of his Unspeakable career.

His newly assigned partner and current state of inaction was courtesy of the '76 Sigma Squad Captain, Operative Atlas. While he had already been introduced to the squad at large, there were still a few things left to take care of as a 'new' member of Sigma.

Tracking charms, identification spells, emergency portkeys. There was a great deal of work involved in incorporating a new recruit. He'd already spent half the day getting poked and prodded by the guys out of R&D. Add in his impromptu initiation by the rest of the squad earlier that morning made for one tired wizard.

Tired he could live with. Being bored? Torture.

"So whatcha reading?"

Castle sighed and vanished his book from his hands, "I think I understand why Valkyrie desperately wants to choke you every time you get brought up."

Harry brightened visibly at his companions rumbling response.

"Awww… I knew she was warming up to me!" smiled Harry, as he rocked back in his seat and propped his feet on top the table, stuffing a ham sandwich into his mouth.

Castle cocked his head to the side in disbelief.

"How does Valkyrie making death threats constitute her warming up to you?"

Harry shrugged and waved a hand dismissively, "They all start that way. She'll come around eventually. The death threats are just a phase..."

The time traveler froze, momentarily lost in thought, before glaring suspiciously at his sandwich, "Or they really do try to kill me… Huh. Maybe I should check my food for poison, just in case."

Castle bobbed his head, obviously rolling his eyes beneath his hood.

"Y'know, for a guy who's completely covered under a cloak, your body language is oddly expressive…"

"Weird isn't it?" interrupted a third voice as another hooded Unspeakable strolled into the room, "I'm pretty sure Castle did interpretive dance before joining the Department, but he refuses to neither confirm nor deny my theory."

The newest Unspeakable thrusted his hand out in a friendly handshake, "Field Operative Archer, at your service."

Harry raised a brow at the new arrival before he grasped the other man's hand and shook firmly, "A pleasure."

Archer stepped back and lowered his hood, revealing a youthful looking blonde with warm brown eyes. A five o'clock shadowed graced his cheeks while a jagged scar cut across the bottom of Archer's lip.

"Really? A facial scar? Don't you think that's a little tacky?"

Archer touched his fingers to the aforementioned scar, "You think? I thought it looked pretty intimidating… "

Harry chuckled, "If you're going for intimidation, at least grow the beard out. You look like a baby faced Auror fresh outta the academy. A disguise is supposed to draw attention away from you, not make people laugh."

Archer snorted in amusement, "And what about your disguise? Because last I remember, you had black hair, not red. You look like a bloody Weasley if you ask me…"

The time traveler ran a hand through his magically transformed hair, his locks no longer jet black but fiery red, "Ehhh, I like to mix it up. Besides, it's a distraction. My enemies will be so fixated on trying to determine whether or not I'm a Weasley or a Prewett, that they'll never question why I'm there in the first place. It's foolproof."

"Huh. That could actually work..." mused Archer thoughtfully.

Castle groaned in exasperation, "Oh Merlin. Just what I needed. _Two_ resident idiots."

"Oh quiet, you overly muscular intellectual, you," replied Archer flippantly, "I'm bonding with the new guy. No need for baseless insults."

The blond Unspeakable turned back towards Harry, "Speaking of bonding, the Big Boss wants us to bring in your Auror buddy for a debriefing. Seeing as Captain Atlas is off on a recon mission with Loki and Valkyrie, the Dragon left it up to us to bring him in. Said you'd be in charge of the operation."

Archer nodded towards Castle, "If you ask me, I think we should have Castle here distract the Auror with his superior dance skills while me and you stuff 'em in a bag from behind, what do you say?"

Harry chuckled while he rolled his eyes. It seemed apparent that Archer was the 1976 version of himself, ridiculous quips and all. It made him wonder who Archer could possibly be. He had to admit, his knowledge of the various witches and wizards alive thirty years ago was a bit lacking, "Or I could handle this solo… I'm sure my source in the DMLE would prefer not to be tagged and bagged by a bunch of Unspeakables in the night. Besides, my contact's identity is secret. I'd prefer to keep it that way."

Archer shrugged, "Hey, works for me. I'm fine with having the afternoon off. You sure you don't want to bring Castle along for the ride?"

"Well, the Boss did assign me to Sigma for a reason," replied Harry thoughtfully, "What do you say mate? You mind being on standby while I bring my source in? I'll meet you at one of the safehouses after I disguise my contacts identity."

Harry glanced over at the large Unspeakable, the man giving a noncommittal shrug.

"I'll take that as a yes. I'll message you with the details as I get them," replied Harry as he rose abruptly to his feet, "Well. Guess my boredom has come to an end. It seems I have an Auror to kidnap, au revoir gentlemen."

The Unspeakable turned on the spot and disappeared with a near silent crack.

Archer stroked his chin thoughtfully before glancing over at Castle, "Interesting isn't he?"

Castle shrugged and pulled out his book, opening it back up to his previous spot.

A secondary crack saw the reappearance of Harry into the briefing room.

"Forgot my sandwich," quipped the Unspeakable, snagging the half eaten ham sandwich off the table, before disappearing once again with a significantly louder crack.

Castle turned a page of his book, shaking his head in exasperation. Idiots. He was surrounded by idiots. Maybe he should've gone with his backup career. Wizard strippers made a killing these days.

* * *

Amelia fumbled with her casual robes trying to straighten out the wrinkles, as she sat alone in the corner of the Hog's Head. It wasn't often that the auror went out socially and Amelia couldn't help but feel horribly awkward sitting alone at the bar. Chasing dark wizards through Knockturn Alley? No problem. Magical duel between dragon smugglers and the DMLE? Just another day at the office. Waiting at a bar for a man she met just a few weeks ago? Amelia almost hoped for another Death Eater attack, just so she could burn off some of her nervous energy.

"Will you be orderin' anything Miss Bones?"

Amelia jumped at the voice, before staring wide eyed at the grizzled form of Aberforth Dumbledore.

Aberforth cocked an eyebrow at the lone redhead, "A drink perhaps?"

"Umm," replied Amelia, as she glanced over at the bottles behind the counter, "Butterbeer?"

The old bartender gave her a judgmental look, before reaching under the table and retrieving a black bottle that was most definitely not butterbeer.

"Here," grunted Aberforth sliding the bottle across the counter, "Belhaven. Scottish Ale. Enjoy."

Amelia stared incredulously as the bearded bartender turned on his heel and left. She glanced down at the bottle and gave it a tentative sip.

"Ugh," gagged the Auror, the alcoholic beverage bitter to her inexperienced tastebuds. Amelia slowly pushed the drink away from her as she twisted her face in disgust. She had no idea why people enjoyed drinking. It all tasted horrible to her.

"Amy!"

Amelia perked up as she heard a familiar voice behind her. Turning towards the bar entrance, she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the exuberant waving of the Unspeakable, his eyes shut in a ridiculous grin.

"Harry," acknowledged the redheaded auror.

The Unspeakable strolled up next to her before pausing deliberately, his eyes narrowed in thought, "You look different."

Harry cocked his head sideways, analyzing her features, "Did you do something with your hair?"

Amelia froze, "No?"

"Huh. You look good," shrugged Harry, taking a seat next to the auror, "So… What's up?"

Amelia blew the hair out of her face as she glared lightly at her companion, "What's up? Don't you mean sorry for for disappearing for a whole week?"

Amelia glanced around the bar, before hissing quietly, "After stopping a bloody Death Eater attack!"

Harry gave the redheaded auror a sheepish grin, as he motioned a single finger towards Aberforth. The wizened old bartender nodded absentmindedly, already sliding a frothy mug of beer across the table.

"Err… Sorry?"

"Not good enough…" Amelia punched Harry lightly on the shoulder, "Prat."

The Unspeakable winced, rubbing his shoulder, "Merlin woman, you win, no need to get violent..."

Amelia cast a concerned gaze at Harry, the wizard using his good arm to take a long swig from his beer.

"Are you still hurt?"

Harry shook his head negative, "Nah, just had me a little accident with a cabinet and some fire."

The auror gave her companion an incredulous look, before staring pointedly at Harry's drink, "Let me guess. You were being drunk and disorderly?"

The dark haired Unspeakable grinned mischievously, "More like breaking and entering, but hey. You didn't hear that from me."

Amelia groaned, "Oh Merlin. Don't tell me I'm going to have to arrest you Harry…"

"You'll never take me alive, Copper."

Amelia groaned.

"You're not fooling anybody with the witty remarks Harry, it's a good thing you're at least a skilled dueler, I don't think you'll make it as a two-bit comedian."

"Ouch," winced Harry dramatically, "And here I thought I was coming off as cool and mysterious…"

"Please," scoffed Amelia, as she tucked a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, "Don't make me laugh. "

"But what if you sound like a hyena? Because that would only encourage me more…"

Amelia crossed her arms over her chest.

"Okay, fine," surrendered Harry, raising his hands in the air, "I'll cut back on the one liners. But I reserve the right to make an exception for the truly clever ones from now on. Besides, how can I go on living if I can't amuse myself with copious amounts of sarcasm and witty remarks?"

The redhead auror chuckled at her companions antics and took another tentative sip of her drink. Her face scrunched up in disgust a second time. Nope. Still gross.

"You know, when we first dueled, I knew you were good," continued Amelia, flicking her hair out of her eyes, "But I didn't realize you were _that_ good until after Diagon Alley. What are you, the second coming of Albus Dumbledore or what?"

Harry laughed out loud, his shoulders shaking in merriment, as he pulled out his wand and waved it lazily. A wave of power passed through her body raising the hair on her arms, as a faint buzzing noise started in her ears. A privacy ward, and a fairly advanced one to boot.

"Me? The second coming of Albus Dumbledore?" chuckled Harry, shaking his head, "Please. I'm nowhere near as powerful as Hogwarts' illustrious Headmaster. Albus could've taken those Death Eaters solo while simultaneously giving a transfiguration class. I got my ass thrown through a window and cracked most my ribs. Not to mention I got careless and was nailed a couple times with the cruciatus. I'm good, but I'm not Dumbledore good. I appreciate the compliment though, thanks Amy."

Amelia raised an interested brow, leaning forward in her seat as she did so, "That's a bit modest coming from you don't you think? Where's the cocky wizard who knocked out a trio of Death Eaters drunk?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly as he drank his beer, "You got to know your capabilities. I'll admit, I'm on the upper part of the curve when it comes to magical power, but there's a distinction between above average strength and the likes of Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. I just make up the difference with skill, training, and a lot of luck."

"So what? You're just another average wizard? "

Harry gave a cheeky grin, "Now, now, Amy. I didn't say average. I said _above_ average…"

"Don't make me hit you."

The Unspeakable chuckled, "Anyway, while I'm not on Dumbledore's level, give me my old squad and I'm pretty sure we could give him a run for his money."

"Oh yeah?" replied Amelia.

"Oh hell yeah," nodded Harry, a nostalgic smile gracing his cheeks, "Me and the crew would've made him pay for a win, no doubt about it. Before we got disbanded, we were the best in the Department, bar none."

The auror nodded interestedly, "Sounds like you were impressive. Why'd you break up?

Harry's face darkened, his grip tightening on the glass handle of his mug, "Nature of the job. Falcon and Váli were dead. Templar lost his wand arm. I was stuck on injured reserve. Only Duchess made it out relatively okay and that's not getting into her mental and emotional problems."

Amelia cringed at the emotional landmine she accidentally stumbled upon, "I'm sorry. It must have been hard."

Harry locked eyes with Amelia, his dark green eyes piercing her misty blue, "I try not to dwell on it. We had some bad Intel. And the operation wasn't exactly sanctioned. I have no one to blame but myself."

Amelia winced as she took another sip from her drink. It was still awful, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the awkward situation she found herself in. Serious Harry just wasn't normal. Witty and a general pain in the ass, yes. Dark and brooding? It was a side of the Unspeakable she had never seen before.

Maybe there was a reason he was overly cheerful all the time. And nearly always had a drink in hand.

Harry let loose a deep sigh, before plastering a smile on his face, "Enough with the depressing talk. We're not here to talk about me. Let's talk about you."

Amelia nodded, desperate for a change in subject.

"So the boss wants to talk to you," stated Harry, cutting right to the chase, "As soon as possible."

The redheaded auror's eyes widened, "Wait. What?"

"You know. The Head Unspeakable? My boss in the Department? The head honcho? The big kahuna? He wants to talk to you."

"Why would he want to talk to me? I'm just a patrol auror. I'm not even high on the totem pole…"

Harry took another sip from his beer, smacking his lips in satisfaction, "No idea."

Amelia stared at Harry incredulously.

"Although," drawled Harry, dragging out the word, "It might be because I vouched for you…"

The petite auror shook her head in confusion, "Vouched for me?"

Harry nodded, "Oh yeah. The boss wanted to obliviate you into last week. Literally. We already took care of your partner Scrimgeour, so you were the last loose end we had to take care of. The boss doesn't like leaving loose ends. Makes him cranky."

Amelia paled visibly, "Loose end. Right…"

"Don't worry about it," continued Harry leaning onto the bar, "If the boss was going to obliviate you, he'd have already done it. This is probably just a courtesy meeting."

"Or my obliviation appointment."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, "That's also a possibility.

Amelia gulped.

"Like I said, don't worry," quipped Harry, patting the smaller woman on the shoulder, "If you forget who I am I'll be absolutely devastated. Or at the very least, mildly upset. Possibly even perturbed."

"I'm glad to see I mean so much to you. Ass."

Harry chuckled, "You ready to go?"

"Now?"

"Well I did say as soon as possible. Did you forget?" Harry fake gasped, his eyes widening dramatically, "Amy. Don't freak out. But I think you might have been obliviated…"

Amelia punched Harry in the arm, hard.

"Owwwww! Damn it woman! No punching!"

* * *

Former Auror Captain Gawain Robards growled angrily as he stalked through the twists and turns of Knockturn Alley. His black cloak was pulled up tight to his body protecting him from the freezing wind, while his hood hid his signature blond hair from view.

He didn't know where it all went wrong. One moment he was sitting in his office, a glass of scotch in hand, taking care of some last minute paperwork. The next, a squad from Internal Affairs was kicking down his door, calling for his arrest.

The former Captain fingered his wand in his hand nervously. His tendency to blast first and ask questions later was going to come back to haunt him. Bribery and corruption charges were a lot easier to get out of than a triple homicide. Especially when the victims were fellow aurors.

Pushing through the darkened alleys, Gawain knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement caught wind of his crimes and started a massive headhunt.

Gawain had to get to the Dark Lord. It was his only shot at protection. And while he wasn't a huge believer in the Death Eater ideology, he was still a well respected pureblood, and a skilled dueler. The Dark Lord would not turn him away.

The former auror shivered as a particularly freezing gust of wind buffeted his cloak, forcing him into a relatively warm alcove.

The only matter to attend to was to find a proper gift for the Dark Lord. His contacts in the underground had told him the leader of the Death Eaters was particularly partial to receiving gifts. If he could bring something of value, his standing with the Dark Lord would rise dramatically.

"Wow, it is really getting nasty out here huh?" called out a new voice causing Gawain to glance up in interest. The shivering form of a young woman ducked into the space between building, avoiding the frigid winds racing through the alley.

Gawain gave a friendly grin as he lowered his hood, "This winter has been something else, ehh Rosmerta?"

Rosmerta returned a wide smile, her curly brown hair framing her face, "Auror Robards? So nice to see you again! This winter's definitely been freezing, I haven't had so many warming charms fail in my life!"

Gawain nodded agreeably as he moved closer to the beautiful bartender, his wand hidden behind his back.

There were rumors floating around that the Dark Lord had plans to launch a full scale attack at Hogsmeade in the near future.

What better gift could there be than the best source of information on all things Hogsmeade? The infamous Madame Rosmerta.

"Stupefy."

The Dark Lord will be pleased.

* * *

AN: So… It hasn't been six months… You're welcome?

No action in this chapter, just a lot of character building, plot development,and dissemination of information. Basically filler.

Charlus Potter is on the hunt, trying to determine who exactly his savior/family member's true identity is, while Remus somehow gets detention.

Two more members of Sigma '76 get introduced and we get a glimpse into their personalities and character. I had fun writing them, but they aren't huge characters in the grand scheme of things. I'm curious if anyone will get their identities right.

We also got some more Amelia Bones interaction. Why does dear old Nicholas want to talk to her? Why is Harry so damn carefree? Why do people drink?

And finally, Gawain Robards. For the particularly aware, there was a brief mention of him in chapter three. Harry dug up some dirt on him and passed on the files to Amelia. Now he's on the run and it looks like Rosie was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

As for the people complaining/excited that this is turning into a Harry/Bellatrix. I have no idea what you're talking about. I think I've mentioned her once so far. Y'all crazy.

Besides, I already said romance isn't going to be a major aspect of this. Although you Rosmerta shippers seem pretty desperate. There is a distinct lack of that pairing on this site huh? Lol

I hoped you enjoyed, If you're not faint of heart, feel free to check WTT out on Dark Lord Potter. I'm in the Work by Author and Almost Recommended forums. If you want some in depth discussion from the most brutally honest Harry Potter fans on the internet or want to discuss the story with me, that's the place to go. Your feedback directly affects the story, and I'm already going back and editing some of the previous chapters.

Until next time, stay frosty and check your corners. Death Eaters are everywhere.

-Private Jenkins


	6. Chapter 6

Believe it or not folks I'm not actually dead. As some of you may know, I'm currently active duty in the United States Army. And let's just say life's been one crazy ride these past few months. I recently transfered across the country to my new duty station. Seeing as first impressions with a new unit is huge, I pretty much spent my first three months here working my ass off. Which definitely paid off. I've recently graduated from Sapper school, which is considered one of the hardest schools in the army, and one of only three tabs authorized to wear on your shoulder (the other two being Special Forces and Ranger).

And believe me, I had no idea I could go over a hundred forty four hours with four hours of sleep and a hundred twenty fucking pound rucksack. That shit sucked. I went from 195lbs of muscle to 170lbs of scrawny badass. Lol

But because I was able to tab Sapper, I was told I'm going to Ranger school at the end of the year. So yeah. A bit hectic.

I love writing. Fanfiction has been my secret hobby for years and I love the feedback you guys give me, both good and bad. However, I've reached a point in my career where I need to take a break from my hobbies and focus on improving myself as a soldier and a leader. WTT isn't abandoned. No bullshit. I've written a good chunk of the story already, but unless you want me to just post the conclusion, you guys are gonna have to wait a bit longer.

Hopefully I can put some stuff out for you guys relatively soon, and I'm sorry this isn't the next chapter you were waiting for. Until then though, I hope you've enjoyed and I'll catch you on the flip side.

-Private Jenkins

PS: For those of you that do know what Sapper school is, the answer is yes. I did karate chop a bunny rabbit, and yes. It was fucking delicious.


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